Deadly Love
by kittykatloren
Summary: A book alternative to RotG. Daine and the hyenas are chasing Ozorne, but instead of going to the menagerie, Ozorne has other plans, which lead to a lot of trouble for our favorite mages. Daine/Numair. My first fic - please review!
1. Captured

Okay, the summary pretty much says it all. It's twisty, intense, fluffy, finished, and hopefully decent - I'm the process of editing. Each chapter about 2500 - 3000 words. Reviews are cuddled like they're my own personal Numair.

**Disclaimer: **Everything you recognize belongs to Tamora Peirce. This applies to this chapter and every single chapter in the fic, because I don't want to put a disclaimer for every chapter. Consider them all disclaimed.

I hope you enjoy!

**EDITED**

* * *

Daine snarled and tried to launch herself at the man before her, a monarch covered in gold and jewels; elegant silks and glittering green magic. Teeu, a strong, lithe hyena, whirled around to the Emperor Mage's back, trying to get a bite on his rear. Iry and Aranh attempted to claw his sides. But all three hyenas - and the one human in hyena form - were thrown back as an emerald barrier appeared between them and their foe.

Hissing at Ozorne, the hyenas dropped back to circle him menacingly. Daine could see the sweat on his face - he was probably tiring from loss of blood and overusing his Gift. It didn't help he was terrified of hyenas as well. Ozorne smiled grimly and sent a bolt of green fire at each of the hyenas in turn. Teeu and her two packmates howled and fell to the ground, motionless. The last green bolt hit Daine squarely between the eyes, but it felt like a mere shock, and she continued to growl at Ozorne.

"Perfect," the mage said. "Now I know which is our darling Veralidaine."

Daine blanched. She didn't think he would be able to single her out like this. Stunned, she almost missed the emperor dropping his shielding spell. Daine was barely able to gather her wits in time to leap at Ozorne, baring her sharp teeth.

"That's not very nice, my dear," Ozorne said, side-stepping out of the way faster than Daine would have believed possible. Before Daine could whip around to face him again, a strong green net of magic was flung over her with the force of a tidal wave. Gasping, Daine realized that Ozorne's stores of magic must have been higher than she thought. She cursed to herself, struggling inside the emerald net.

Ozorne's face appeared in her line of sight. "You escaped me once already, Veralidaine. I must be assured that it will not happen again." His voice grew softer, and more intense. "I must be assured that you will wreak no more havoc in my world."

He raised a hand and more emerald fire collected in his palm. "I will have to dispose of you. In a difficult way. Just like I did with your traitor teacher, _Master Salmalin._"

_Numair,_ Daine thought desperately. She thrashed violently against her bonds, rage and grief coursing through her at the sound of Numair's name. Ozorne was the man that killed him, her teacher, her closest friend, Ozorne was _inches_ away -

Ozorne noticed her reaction and the cruelest smile Daine had ever seen spread across his face. "You loved him," he said wickedly. "Just as he loved you. But that's over now, dear."

Daine saw Ozorne raise the hand that was full of emerald fire, then everything went dark.

* * *

Hurrying down the ruined corridor of the palace, Numair cursed violently. Bodies of the palace guards who were not smart enough to get out of a furious wildmage's path were strewn all across the smoldering hallways, along with large piles of ash, rubble, and fallen decorations.

How could he have let this happen? He should never have left Daine alone, when he had _known_ Ozorne was going to target her. Now he had no idea of knowing whether or not Daine was safe. _Now she must think I'm dead_, he thought bitterly. He couldn't believe he had neglected to tell Daine about his simulacrum. Knowing from the start of this trip that there was no way a man like Ozorne would have let him return to Carthak with a clean slate, Numair had planned for the eventuality that he would need a copy of himself. But it never crossed his mind to tell Daine this, for he had never thought he would have to let his simulacrum get _executed._

Numair nearly slipped in a pool of blood on his next step and cursed again. Where was she? He _had_ to find her, _had_ to get out of this infernal country -

Piercing shrieks suddenly rang throughout the palace, every animal yelling or cawing or roaring in fury. _Daine_, Numair thought instantly.

He gasped in pain as something hard slammed unexpectedly into his side. Whipping around, Numair called his Gift to his hands, surrounding them with black fire and pointing them at a terrified guard who was holding a bloody sword. Disoriented, Numair felt a sting in side. The blood on the sword was his.

Numair didn't stop to think – there wasn't enough time – and he pushed out his Gift, killing the man instantly. Animals were still screaming around them - meaning Daine was still in danger. Ignoring the wound in his side - the pain was lessening; the cut wasn't deep - Numair pushed through the wreckage of the Imperial Palace.

Where would Ozorne take her? It couldn't be the regular dungeons; Daine could have broken out of them easily on her own. He closed his eyes, trying to remember where else they held prisoners. _Think._

_A young man with dark skin, dark eyes, and dark hair walked briskly down a gloomy-looking passageway, glancing back over his shoulder every now and then. "Come on now, Arram," he said. "It's not much farther."_

_Arram moaned and dragged his feet. "I don't like this, Ozorne," he said. "We shouldn't be around here at all, let alone at night. Your father will be furious if he catches us."_

"_Well, he won't catch us then, will he?" Ozorne opened a door and began down a steep flight of stairs. Shadows and spiders were horribly abundant. _

_Arram followed with his eyes narrowed. "Why are we coming here?"_

"_You'll see."_

_Eventually the pair emerged into a shady room. There were no windows, only grey stone and streakmarks where water dripped down from the mossy ceiling above. It felt damp and musty, and was obviously not inhabited by anything other than rats. _

"_Where are we?" Arram asked. Part of him didn't want to know._

"_Under the menagerie."_

"_Again, why - "_

_Arram stopped suddenly. In the dim, sourceless light, the young mage caught sight of familiar marks engraved into the walls, ceiling, and floor of the room. Instantly he recognized the runes._

"_You can't do this," Arram said, his voice low. "Do you know how much power those hold? Just one is enough to take hold of someone's spirit or magic or soul, whatever you want to call it, never let it go-"_

"_I know," Ozorne said. "Which makes this the best place for prisoners, right?"_

"_What are you thinking?" Arram hissed. "Trap people here who are too good for the regular dungeons?"_

"_That's an idea," Ozorne said thoughtfully. "Because when I activate the symbols in here, the prisoner would never be able to leave. Without tearing their soul apart."_

_Ozorne's eyes bored into Arram's. Arram suddenly realized what Ozorne meant to do; why he was here._

_He turned around and ran._

Numair snapped his eyes open. As suddenly as the memory had appeared, he knew where Daine was. Ozorne was going to try to trap her through her magic, permanently, as he has tried to trap Numair all those years ago.

_Wild magic isn't governed like the Gift,_ he told himself as he ran towards the menagerie. _Perhaps it can't be trapped and constrained._

It was his last hope - he flung open the nondescript door that lay by the menagerie entrance, and gazed into the dark stairwell he had descended so long ago. For a fleeting moment he stood there, frozen, but an animal shrieked overhead and he was reminded of why he was there. Gritting his teeth, Numair dashed down the narrow stairs that were infinitely too long.

* * *

_A vast field of flowers stretched before her. Green dominated the land, but there were so many blooms that yellow, pink, and purple almost took the top spot. The sky glimmered a cloudless blue – it was like paradise, except there were no animals. By a large tree stood a woman Daine knew instantly, and a man she had seen only a few times. He had streaks of green in his tan skin, antlers protruding out of his curly brown hair, a bow slung across his back._

"_Ma," Daine said. The voice that came from her mouth was that of a child's. "Ma… Da?"_

_The antlered man suddenly vanished. Daine frowned._

"_Is he… not my da, then?"_

_Sarra only reached out a hand toward Daine. The girl leaned forward, trying to grasp it, but then Sarra disappeared too._

"_No!" Daine yelled. "Ma! Ma!"_

_Something was pulling her away from the warm meadow. It tugged at her spirit, making her cry in agony. Claws ripped into her very essence, and the spring of copper fire inside her pulsed, as if angry. Daine tried to pull away from the mysterious force that gripped her, but nothing worked. Nothing._

* * *

Numair sent a streaming ball of black fire at Ozorne, instantly taking in the scene around him – the same cell, the same runes. Ozorne whipped around, his hands frozen in the half-completed design that would activate his magic. Numair panted with the effort of keeping Ozorne's hands fully immobilized.

The emperor mage's face went pale in terror. "No!" he screeched. "I killed you! _I watched you die!_"

"Didn't do a very good job of it, did you?" said Numair, circling around Ozorne. He stepped carefully so that he kept his body between the emperor's and Daine's.

Ozorne's face contorted into a sneer. "Come to rescue your true love? The damsel in distress?"

Numair growled, taking a step forward. "Stop this now, Ozorne, and maybe I'll let you live."

"You wouldn't have the guts to kill, _Draper,_" the emperor hissed. "You never had what it took to be a war mage."

_Ozorne knows nothing about me,_ Numair realized. He could use this to his advantage. Pretending to falter and hesitate, Numair let his spell on Ozorne's hands weaken - by just the slightest fraction. And just as he predicted, Ozorne felt it, and broke through the weakened magic in a bright burst of emerald mage-fire.

"Ha!" Ozorne screeched, tracing symbols in the air again. "_I_ am more powerful! _I_ hold you captive here! She will be mine, and you will die, Draper!"

_Egotistical fool._ Swiftly, before Ozorne could react, Numair swept his leg around, ramming his foot above the emperor mage's knee, just as Alanna had taught him back at home.

"_Your enemy will crumple like paper if you strike in the right place. Everyone needs to know practical defense. Even you, a black robe mage."_

Numair had pouted and complained at the time, but Alanna had insisted on teaching him the fundamentals of unarmed defense and basic swordplay. Now he was glad he learned: Ozorne was only expecting magical attacks from his former friend. The stupid, self-consumed emperor refused to believe that Numair could ever have more talent than him in any aspect at all. Falling to the ground, Ozorne cursed, his control over the spell slipping. The pulsing marks in the walls began to fade.

Numair forced his magic over Ozorne, freezing the emperor's entire body in place instantly. "Give me a reason," said Numair, his voice low and deadly. He barely recognized himself. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you."

Ozorne couldn't move anything but his eyes. He flicked them from side to side, but obviously could not find a way out. Numair saw the man's black eyes fill with hatred and, more clearly, fear.

"Just as I thought," said Numair, endeavoring to keep his voice light and friendly this time. "There _aren't_ any good reasons. Goodbye, Emperor Mage."

But before Numair could use his Gift to force the life out of the emperor, a flash of green light illuminated the chamber. A piercing screech cut through the air, an awful grating noise like nothing Numair had ever heard. Behind his eyelids, he could sense the blinding light had fading, and he snapped his eyes open.

Ozorne had disappeared. Only a small pile of ashes remained where the emperor had been.

_Strange,_ Numair thought with a frown. _He shouldn't have been able to manage an incineration spell in that state. And the sound…._

A small whimper made him turn. Twitching and moaning, Daine stirred as she woke, still in hyena form. Numair rushed over to her, crouching. Even with her in animal form, he could tell. He could tell she was upset.

"Daine," he whispered, extending a hand. "Daine, it's alright, he's gone. Wake up. Wake up, you're going to be safe - "

The hyena howled and before Numair could look away, a very human and very unclothed Daine sat mere inches away from him.

Numair's breath caught in his throat.

* * *

"No," Daine whispered, terrified. "It can't be, you're dead, you're Ozorne, tricking me again!"

Numair Salmalin stood before her, breathing heavily. He turned his face away.

"It's me, magelet," he said, shrugging his cloak off his shoulders as he knelt in front of her. He held it out, but Daine didn't take it – she was frozen.

_It's not possible. It's an illusion, a sima-thing…._

The mage threw her his cloak instead of waiting for her to take it. Snatching it instantly, Daine pressed the soft fabric to her face and breathed. It smelled of him – that spicy scent she couldn't really place. She slipped it over her shoulders, tried to open her mouth, and no words came out.

Numair looked her straight in the eyes now. "Ozorne killed my simulacrum. Though, not killed, I suppose, because it was never actually alive, was it? I stayed at the University, undercover, with Lindhall."

Daine took a deep breath, steeling herself. _If he's actually dead, and I'm just fooling myself,_ _I can't get any more broken than I am now._

_Nothing to lose. Everything to gain._

Holding out a tentative hand, Daine placed it carefully on Numair's chest. Under her tense fingers, his heart was beating rapidly – strong, alive, and human.

"Horse Lords, Numair, I thought - I thought - " Daine flung her arms around his shoulders while Numair lifted her off the ground in a crushing hug, his arms strong and warm.

"It's okay, magelet," he said. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I should have, I meant to…."

"You just forgot," Daine smiled. It was so like Numair to forget something like that. All of a sudden, she knew without a doubt – it was him, her teacher and her closest friend, alive.

"Mithros," Numair said, setting her down. "Daine, Goddess bless, I'm glad you're safe."

"Me?" Daine said with a poke to his chest. "_You_ were the one thought dead, dolt!"

"And you were the one with the power-crazed emperor chasing after you - "

Daine gasped. "Wait - Ozorne! Where is he? Where did he go? The - the hyenas - "

_Teeu and Iry and Aranh_. _Ozorne killed them. _Tears for her friends started to form behind her eyes, but Daine pushed them back determinedly, filled with a level of hatred she had never felt before. _I'll get him. I'll get him for hurting my friends. _

Numair pulled her into another hug. "I'm sorry, magelet. But - Ozorne is gone. For now."

For now? Daine shook her head to clear it. The hyenas had loved helping her track down Ozorne, hadn't they? They'd loved the last minutes of their lives. Daine sighed. Now she and Numair were stuck in Carthak, their friends had gone home, and the Imperial Palace had been almost completely destroyed. _By me._

They certainly had plenty of problems.


	2. Escape

Chapter two, moving along! Love reviews.

**Jess** - thank you so much!

**angelic-ninja**, **zropin** - thank you!

**Lizzy** - Haha, thank you!

**EDITED**

* * *

Dank, dark rooms were not good places for concentrating. Not at all. Not when draining runes still glowed faintly on grey, moldy walls and the floor was disgustingly slick with moss and grime.

"Okay," Daine said, pulling away from Numair, crinkling her nose, and beginning to pace. It smelled like the dungheap in the stables back at home. "We need - we need to get out of here - "

"This way," said Numair, pointing to a staircase Daine hadn't noticed before. It, too, was astonishingly small, uninviting, and pitch-black.

"Right," she grimaced. _Not looking forward to that._ "And then what?"

Numair frowned, his face half-shadowed. "Ozorne could still be out there. The peace delegation left already. I don't know how we're going to get back."

"We could contact Alanna or the king. One of those speaking-spells."

"Too many spells are in place here that would detect active magic. The only thing we could do is scry, and that would get us nowhere."

"We have to get away from the palace, then," said Daine. It followed logically.

"Where to, though?" Numair paced around the small room, tugging on his nose like he always did when he was thinking hard about something. It was very Numair-like: further proof he was indeed alive, not a sima-thing. "We can't get across the Inland Sea, not with the entire Carthaki Navy posted there."

"Surely you could perform magics at the University," Daine protested.

Numair stopped, looking thoughtful. "Of course. That we could. Lindhall has got hidden rooms in the lower floors and Kaddar might know how to get us there. If we could find him."

"Easy. I'll ask the animals if they've seen him."

Daine sat and closed her eyes, calling out to the animals in her range. She felt her way through the menagerie and all the way outside the palace walls, until even the crocodiles in the river were listening. Birds flew close from every direction, all clamoring to know if she was all right. The only animals that refused to answer her call were the rats.

_I need your help,_ she told them as she screwed up her face. Their mixed, worried voices were deafening. _Please, I need to know if you have seen this man._

She sent them an image of Kaddar, in ways that the various animals would see him. Muted colors for the mammals and birds, and sounds and vibrations for the bats. The bats answered first, telling her that the friendly jewel-man was in the menagerie.

_Thank you,_ she told the colony. Pulling herself back into the tiny chamber, she turned to Numair and said out loud, "Menagerie. How far away are from that? _Where_ are we, anyway?"

"We're right under it." Numair's eyes darkened for a second, but it was gone before Daine could blink. "Good. We need to be fast."

He extended a hand to help her to her feet. Taking it, Daine stood there for a moment, the warmth of his hand filling her entire body. It felt nice.

"Come on," Numair said softly, leading her towards the stairs. Daine didn't let go of his hand. He smiled at her and tilted his head. His eyes twinkled in the darkness.

"I need the reassurance you're actually alive," Daine explained, trying to look at his face, but up on the stairwell it was so dark she could hardly see anything at all. Numair laughed a little and tousled her hair.

"I assure you, magelet, I am very much alive."

It was good to know.

They emerged right next to the menagerie gate. Kaddar stood not far inside, speaking colorfully to Rikash and Queen Barzha. Her consort, Hebakh, was glaring at the irritated human from behind the other two Stormwings. All three were perched on the metal bars of empty animal cages and crumbling walls, the gnarled trees looking so pitiful that they probably wouldn't support the immortals' weight.

"Do you know where he is?" Kaddar was saying, with a definite sense of urgency in his voice.

"We have seen no one," Barzha said coolly. "As much as I would like to be able to give you information, I have none to give. Ozorne has not been here."

Kaddar sighed just as Rikash caught sight of Numair and Daine. The blond Stormwing's piercing eyes widened at the sight of the mage, and he howled with laughter.

"Longshanks! You're alive!" Rikash clinked his metal feathers, shaking with laughter. "And we had all just been talking about how grateful we were that you were dead. It caused Daine here to destroy half of Ozorne's palace, and caused Kaddar to be so desperate for information that he set us free. Unconditionally."

Kaddar turned to face them. "Master Salmalin, you were right about my uncle. I came here to see if they had word of him. They were the only ones who could talk to me. I set them free, but all they could tell me was that he was never here." He scowled. Daine glanced at Rikash, raising an eyebrow, but the Stormwing just shrugged.

"We've had word of him," Numair said darkly. "He tried to imprison Daine and kill me. Kill both of us."

"_What?"_

"He's gone for now, but we don't know where. He just vanished."

"Rikash?" Daine asked pointedly. "Perhaps you could go look for Ozorne. To pay back Prince Kaddar for releasing Barzha and Hebakh."

"We can look ourselves, too, you know," said Hebakh icily. He took off without another word. Barzha sighed.

"He doesn't like working with humans any more than you like working with us," the queen said, eyeing Kaddar's wrinkled nose. "He'll come around."

She took off after her mate, and Rikash followed them, winking at Daine as he went. Daine kept her eye on the three figures until they were mere dots in the sky, dwarfed by the clouds and the sun.

Kaddar hurried over to the two mages. "You shouldn't be here," he said quietly. "People loyal to Ozorne are still in the palace."

"That's why we came," said Numair. "We need to get to the University. Lindhall's lower rooms."

Kaddar nodded. "Go towards the - "

"Wait," Numair interrupted, placing a hand swiftly over the prince's mouth. "Let me take the knowledge from your mind. We don't know who could be listening here, remember?"

Kaddar nodded, though he looked annoyed that Numair had interrupted him so. Daine watched with interest as Numair placed his hands on Kaddar's temples, a little black fire sparkling around his hands. A moment later, Numair removed his hands and motioned Daine to follow him. But Kaddar grabbed her hand before she could turn.

"Daine," he whispered. People could still be listening. "Good luck finding him. I pray to see you safe again someday."

He raised her hand to his and kissed it gently, a respectful gesture from a prince to a lady. "Thank you," Daine said sincerely. "We're all a part of this now, aren't we? Good luck to you, too, Kaddar."

Kaddar nodded and looked away, his eyes following the specks that were the three Stormwings. Leaving the prince a lone figure in the deserted menagerie, Daine hurried after Numair, who was noticeably irritated.

"What?" Daine asked defensively. "He was just wishing us luck, that's all."

"Us, or you?" said Numair in a low tone. Daine sighed inwardly. Why was Numair always so protective? At least he hadn't tried to warn Kaddar off again, though. Daine supposed he couldn't in the middle of all this, but that he also wouldn't have hesitated if it were possible.

"Sorry, magelet. I'm just finding it hard to adjust to your becoming a beautiful young lady."

Daine blushed - she always did when people paid her compliments. She was still rooted as a country girl from Galla, not a _lady_. It didn't help that it came from Numair, who was sticking very close to her.

Suddenly she remembered Ozorne's words, right before she was knocked cold. His cruel face flashed into her mind, a blurry imagine of a man coated in jewels and green magic. _"You love him. Just as he loves you."_

_Of course I love Numair,_ Daine thought simply, pushing the memory of Ozorne's face away. _He's been my closest friend for years. But the way Ozorne said it…._

It wasn't worth thinking about now.

"Turn here," said Numair, walking briskly around a corner. Daine flushed in embarrassment and guilt at the sight of the wrecked walls and the bodies along the corridor. Cracked paintings hung off the walls, and smoke still drifted with the breeze, not to mention the completely deserted Hall of Bones.

"You have quite a temper, magelet."

"I thought you were dead," Daine muttered under her breath, but she could tell Numair caught her words. "I wasn't thinking straight."

"Of course," replied Numair with a chuckle, placing a comforting arm around her shoulders. "I'm touched that you would go to such lengths to avenge me."

Daine smiled and snuggled in under his shoulder. His arm was strong and warm around her, and of course very alive. Sternly, Daine reminded herself that she didn't need to keep checking – she _knew_ he was alive. But still, she didn't move; it felt nice.

"We need to be cautious when we emerge from the palace. Do you have the strength to shape-shift?"

"Of course," Daine said, surprised. "The question is, do you? You must have used a lot of strength to defeat Ozorne."

"I think I can make it," the mage replied. "You should shift into something native, preferably diminutive, but - "

"What?"

"Oh - diminutive. Small, or inconspicuous."

"Oh."

Daine racked her mind for new songbirds she had met only in Carthak, and ones she had studied with Numair. Scenes of the vast, dry Carthaki landscape flashed before her, pictures she could remember seeing in the book Numair had given her so long ago.

"Would a cactus sparrow work?"

"Ideal," said Numair. "Of course, it's a ways to the University. I was going to say that you might need a bird more suited to longer flights."

Daine judged the distance in her head – over the river, over the markets, over the roads. Numair was right, it would be a long flight even for a native sparrow. But she couldn't think of a larger bird that would go unnoticed.

"I'll be fine," she said. Suddenly worried, she asked, "How will you get there? You're recognizable as a hawk. And it's too far to just walk."

"Hawk form with an invisibility spell. I don't have the strength yet to perform it myself, though." He fumbled in the pocket of his breeches until he pulled out a small pouch. Curling the top of the pouch a little bit, he revealed a small, reddish-brown stone that Daine recognized – after a moment's thought - as a cat's-eye agate. _Makes the wearer invisible with maintained contact._

"This will let me keep my strength," explained Numair. "I'll be beside you, but you won't see me, obviously. We'll be able to speak mind-to-mind in bird form."

They met no one as the hurried through the immense palace but for a few cats and dogs that Daine comforted. Remembering her pact with the rats, Daine reminded the cats to leave that wing of the palace alone.

_Will do,_ said a splendid gray tabby. _It's worth it, to be free of the man-with-green-fire._

_I hope he's gone,_ Daine replied. _I'll do my best to make sure of it._

_Good._ The tabby nodded regally in a very cat-like manner and bounded away.

Numair tapped Daine gently on the shoulder. "You had better shift now," he told her in a whisper. "We'll be outside soon."

Daine nodded and closed her eyes, concentrating on the cheerful sparrows of the desert. Soon Numair's cloak lay crumpled on the ground as Daine-the-sparrow flew up to land on the mage's shoulder.

"Fascinating," he smiled at her as he ran one finger over her tiny head. Daine pecked his fingers to remind him not to get distracted, as he always did, by magical wonders.

"Of course, of course," the mage said hurriedly, throwing the cloak behind a half-destroyed column. Daine fluttered up onto the frame of a painting depicting Ozorne in all his finery, so she could wait for Numair to shift.

He was the large black hawk in no time, and Daine watched while he dragged his discarded clothes behind the column as well. He signaled to Daine to fly ahead as he used a talon to grip the cat's-eye agate. Even though she knew the effects, Daine couldn't stop her small bird's beak from falling open in surprise as the black hawk vanished completely, not a single stray feather visible against the scorched gray stone.

Now Numair spoke to her through her mind. _Come,_ he said. _You lead, I'll follow._

Daine nodded before she realized Numair probably couldn't see such a small movement in such a small bird. _All right_, she told him in mind-speak. She lifted off the painting, leaving a nice present from her bowels on the image of Ozorne.

Flying above the city was both exhilarating and terrifying. The view was fascinating – over the years, she'd thought she'd gotten used to seeing the world from a bird's point of view, but she had never seen anyplace like the Carthaki capital before. Tortall might have stretches of beautiful plain, forest, ocean, and sections of bustling, prosperous cities, but it had nothing like this. Carthak was a mass of narrow streets and shabby tents, extending almost far as she could see in every direction, except for where the roads went right up to the ocean's edge. The ocean itself was glimmering and clear in the sparkling sun, but the packed city was far more interesting. Civilians scuttled around like ants, busy in their harsh daily lives, and the few birds and animals in the city took refuge in scraggly trees and shady spots beneath buildings. And far in the distance, Daine could see a few hills, the dunes of the endless desert. Everything was that same dusty, pale sand color.

Daine shivered. Though she knew Numair was right behind her, she couldn't help but feel alone and vulnerable, flying in full view above that massive marketplace, full of people. _No one can recognize me,_ she told herself sternly. _At least we're doing something._

_There,_ Numair called after what felt like ages of silent flying. Both mages had been concentrating so hard on the pounding of their wings that there hadn't been much energy, and thankfully no need, for conversation. Even Numair's "voice" inside her head sounded weary.

Daine dipped in the air to show that she had heard. Before her loomed the huge buildings of the University, a gray mass of interconnected towers, rooms, and courtyards. It looked like a much nicer place to live than the majority of Carthak –and much more well-protected. How on earth were they supposed to get in?

_Second window on your left,_ Numair told her, as if he could read her mind. Then again, he probably did hear the question.

Daine flew to the correct window and found herself in a very drab room, with no furniture or paintings, just gray stone making up the walls and floor. She heard Numair fly in behind her and come to an awkward landing on the hard floor.

_We're close to the stairs leading to Lindhall's rooms,_ said the hawk-Numair. _You had best shift into a cat, to pass more unnoticed. I'll have to keep hold of the agate and fly. I'm less likely to run into people as a bird._

In answer, Daine quickly shifted into a typical domesticated cat, with smooth fur the same color as the surrounding stone, so she could blend in with ease. She swiped a playful paw at the spot she knew Numair must be, for with her sensitive cat's ears she could hear the soft rustling of his feathers.

_Hey,_ he said. _No maiming!_

Daine purred. She began to head out the door, but stopped as she realized she didn't know where to go.

_Left,_ Numair told her, guessing her predicament. _Just a few yards and there'll be a staircase. Go down it and I'll unlock the door there._

_Thanks, _Daine replied, proceeding to the staircase. It was dark and narrow, shadows lurking after every step - very similar to the one in Ozorne's prison. When she reached the bottom, a gilded black door blocked her from continuing. It looked huge and menacing from her low vantage point, clearly locked tight. She mewed questioningly.

Numair came to another clattering landing beside her, still invisible. _I'm going to shift back to human now, _Numair said._ I'll still be holding the agate. Get into the room quickly once the door is open._

Daine mewed her agreement, not bothering to nod this time. It would be too dark for Numair to see, if he had already shifted back to human. After a short pause, Daine heard a lock click open, revealing a clean, well-furnished sitting room, with at least three doors that had to lead to bedrooms or closets. There was a lot of green, Daine noticed – pale green carpets, green upholstery, green drapes. But it worked well, making the room look comfortable and appealing.

"In we go," Numair's voice sounded in a whisper from somewhere far above her head. Daine slipped into the spacious room, and Numair closed and locked the door behind her. Leaping on to a soft chair, Daine curled there, a small sense of embarrassment creeping over her. She heard Numair curse.

"Not much in the way of clothes here," he muttered irritably, appearing in just a pair of breeches. He tossed Daine a cloak, and she shifted back into human form.

"Don't worry," she said with a grin. "You're quite handsome, after all."

Numair just swore again, making Daine laugh. He collapsed into a chair, with his eyes shut tight. His bare chest was moving up and down rapid, heaving motions. Daine hurried over to him, worried.

"Numair? Are you all right?"

"Fine," he said, cracking an eye open. "Just tired."

Daine put a hand to his forehead anyway. "You're a bit warm."

"Probably because I've just been flying for a century."

Laughing, Daine shook her head, and took her hand away. She stepped back to look him over. Numair didn't always take care of himself, she knew - especially if he had been concerned about her. Chances were, he ignored everything around him until he knew Daine was safe.

Catching sight of a long, thin scratch on Numair's side, Daine gasped, instantly worried. "Numair, you're hurt! Oh, gods, Ozorne didn't do that to you, did he? Are you all right?"

"It's just a scratch," he soothed, glancing down. "A guardsman tried to stop me finding you. It's not stinging and it didn't stop me from being able to fly here, did it? I'll clean it off in a moment." He closed his eyes again, clearly unconcerned.

"You'll clean it now," said Daine sternly. It was surrounded by dirt and dried blood, and was a clear, open target for infections. Even through a light scratch, infections could enter a body far too easily. "And if you won't, I'll do it for you."

Numair groaned, but made no move to get out of the chair. Daine sighed, rummaging around in a few wooden nearby drawers until she found water and clean cloths. Hurrying back to her teacher, she knelt beside the chair so she could wash the blood off his side and dab gingerly at the cut. Thankfully, it was very shallow - Daine pressed her fingers around it gently to ensure it wasn't still bleeding. She didn't bother with a bandage; the cut had healed enough to be left open after a wash. "There," she said, rising and putting the cloths away. "Not so bad, was it?"

"Torture," moaned Numair with a playful grin.

Daine smiled and opened her mouth to respond, but a bubble of mage-fire appeared in the corner of her eye. She jumped, startled, and instinctively tried to take a step backwards, only to get tangled in Numair's long legs. She fell onto his chest; his strong arms gripped hers and kept her from completely losing her balance. Daine looked up into his face and saw that he was grinning.

"I'm not usually clumsy, you know," Daine said, pretending to scowl and look haughty. Numair just laughed and pulled her down to sit on the arm of the chair, keeping one arm around her still. It was extremely comfortable.

Shaking her head quickly to clear it, she focused her attention on the sparkling speaking spell that had surprised her.


	3. Kitten

Moving on, moving on. Sorry it's going kind of slow at the beginning - it will pick up, I promise!

**Irish Ninja Chick, Scales, and Jess - **thank you! I'll keep working on it for you guys!

**Maya** - Thank you SO MUCH for that constructive criticism. You have no idea how much it means to me. I'm working on my editing right now, and am taking special care on settings, I noticed that about my own writing before. And I'm double-checking how my characters speak, too - I want this story to be as good as possible. So again, I REALLY appreciate your advice - it's wonderful to hear things that can help you become a better author.

**EDITED**

* * *

"Master Salmalin?"

"Kaddar!" Daine said, recognizing the voice.

Kaddar's tone became much more relaxed when he heard Daine, sounding calmer and more controlled. "I hope you both made it in one piece. You are at the University, correct?"

"Yes," said Daine. "Safe and sound."

"I _think_ my legs are still attached to my body," Numair said sarcastically. "But I'm not quite sure."

Daine stifled a laugh while Kaddar continued. "Good. Daine, listen - I found - in the dungeons. I had the palace searched by myself and people I trust, and in the dungeons, the Banjiku found - "

"Spit it out, Kaddar," Daine, worried.

"They found Kitten. She has been spelled, or some - "

"Kitten!" Daine shrieked. "Oh gods, Numair, Kitten!"

_What if Ozorne hurt her? How could I forget her?_ Daine screamed inside her head. A few birds' peeps of alarm carried into the underground room, and Daine knew she had to control herself, fast. Ozorne was smart enough to realize that suspiciously-acting animals meant Daine was nearby. Numair, too, had gone pale under his swarthy skin, and Daine knew he was worried as well. If Daine was Kit's ma, Numair would be the one Kitten saw as her da. To both of them, Kit was as dear as a child.

Taking deep, meditation-style breaths like Numair had taught her, Daine turned to her teacher, biting her lip. "How could I forget her, Numair? I'm horrible, I'm - "

"You are nothing of the sort," Numair interrupted firmly. "You are a fantastic ma to Kitten. I think the shock of finding me alive drove anything logical from your mind."

Daine nodded out of habit, but guilt still filled her entire body. She had left Kit alone, drugged or spelled by Ozorne –

"We're trying what we can to wake her, but nothing's working," Kaddar said worriedly, bringing Daine back to her senses.

"Wakeflower," suggested Numair.

"She stirred a little, but did not wake. Daine, I think you need to with her. Kit always responded best to you."

"I'm coming," Daine said immediately, standing. Numair grabbed her by the arm.

"Not a chance," he growled. "It's not safe."

"I don't care!" she said angrily, trying to yank her arm away, but Numair was stronger. "Kitten's back there, I have to – to - "

_Deep breaths,_ she told herself firmly, hearing more birds peep and chirp. As she tried to look away, Numair caught her chin with his free hand and turned her face back towards him.

"Listen, Daine," he said urgently. His dark eyes blazed with something Daine couldn't read. "You do not have the strength to get there, much less back. I'm in no better condition. Our best hope is to find some way to get Kitten here."

"I could get her there," Kaddar said. "I couldn't have traveled with the two of you without arousing suspicion. But I think I can bring Kitten."

"Oh, thank you, Kaddar," Daine said, nearly collapsing with relief. She fell back onto the arm of Numair's chair.

"What do you plan to do after?" Numair asked. Daine noticed his grip on her relax when Kaddar ensured Kitten's safety.

"I need to get my uncle's old enemies out of the country. I'm sorry I could not help you get to Tortall - Maren is the only country willing to accept refugees from Carthak, and I don't think they would agree to have important Tortallan delegates between their borders."

Daine frowned, confused, but Numair nodded shortly. "We appreciate all you've done for us already. Just bring Kitten here. We can find our own way back to Tortall, thank you."

Daine kicked Numair in the shins. Numair ignored her.

"Of course, Master Salmalin. I'll be there as quickly as possible. Daine - "

Numair snapped his fingers and the mage-fire vanished.

"Why do you hate him so much?" she asked with a sigh.

"I don't hate him," Numair replied, looking carefully innocent. "He's very kind. I just don't think he always remembers his position."

"You already lectured him about that enough," muttered Daine. "He isn't courting me."

"Good," said the mage. "I just don't want you to get hurt. He is kind, but - "'

"Yes, yes, he has to marry for his country, he's a noble, I know, I get it," Daine said. "I don't want to be involved with him anyway. Can you drop it now?"

Numair smiled at her. "Of course. I have full confidence in you."

Rolling her eyes, Daine wondered why he had brought it up in the first place. "Stupid, over-protective man," she muttered. Numair didn't seem to hear. Settling herself comfortably against his shoulder, there was a few moments of silence, since both mages were exhausted and worried. But Daine was content for now to just be near Numair, after so nearly losing him.

"Why couldn't Kaddar get us to Tortall, or at least Maren, if he can get others there?" Daine asked suddenly, after a short while of rest.

Numair sighed. "We are lucky enough to be foreign from both Carthak and Maren, which means we would stand out if we tried to take shelter in Maren with a group of Carthakis. If we stand out, Ozorne could find out where we are, and since he desperately wants both of us dead, that's not something we want to happen. In any case, the rest of the world believes I'm already dead - Ozorne would not have hesitated in bragging to the whole world that he had caught a horrible criminal after so many years."

His voice turned bitter, and Daine found his hand and gave it a sympathetic squeeze. He smiled gratefully at her, keeping hold of her hand. "Basically, Ozorne wants us dead more than anyone in the world. We must return to Tortall somehow, where there are people are willing to protect us, and where it's easier to protect ourselves. And right now, it's nearly impossible for _anyone_ to get there, much less us - Ozorne's taking no chances. He brought his entire navy here for a reason."

Daine sighed, seeing Numair scowl at the thought. The situation they had landed themselves in was just getting worse and worse the more they thought about it.

"We had better send a speaking-spell to Alanna," Daine said. "That's the whole reason we came here, anyway, to use magic undetected."

"Right," said Numair wearily, rubbing his eyes. He snapped his fingers and a black bubble of mage-fire appeared, getting lighter and darker as sounds starting echoing out of it. Daine heard shufflings and scrapings, and distant bangs and shouts.

"Alanna?" Numair called.

"Numair! Numair? Is that really you?" Alanna's voice was tense and sharp, but so very familiar. She heaved a sigh, sounding relieved. "I was just trying to scry you," she explained, motioning to her sword. "Where in Mithros' name are you?"

"We're at the University," said Numair. "Lindhall's old rooms; they're blocked from scrying. We had to fly here from the palace, it's a long story, but the important points - Ozorne now knows I'm alive, he's still at large, and we're stuck here until further notice."

Suddenly the bubble of fire grew wider, and an image flickered onto it. It was Alanna, but her face was distorted and shiny – seen through a scrying surface. Her piercing violet eyes flickered from Numair to Daine, who was still leaning against him. Numair seemed to notice, for he quickly let go of Daine's hand and leant back in the chair, away from her. Daine frowned, she liked being near him.

Alanna didn't comment. "How did Ozorne find out about the simulacrum?"

"He didn't. He just saw me. He tried to duel me, actually; I almost killed him. Somehow he got away."

"Hag's bones," Alanna swore. "We have got to get you two back here somehow. Perhaps Jon - "

"Don't even try," cautioned Numair. "Ozorne's navy is still in the Inland Sea. I'm surprised they let you pass. Tell Jon what I've told you, we will find a way back."

Alanna still looked concerned. "I could try to - "

A huge bang and panicked shouts sounded from behind the knight, and she whipped around, but nothing threatening appeared in Daine's limited vision through the spell. After a moment the knight turned back around, her face strained.

"Alanna, you're needed at home," Daine said, trying not to think about what could be happening back at Tortall. "Don't worry about us. We can take care of ourselves - we work well together."

Daine smiled at Numair, who sighed. Alanna's eyes flickered between their faces again, but she didn't say anything.

"Just promise me you'll return," she whispered after a brief moment.

"I promise," Numair said solemnly.

More shouts and screeches echoed from somewhere above the Alanna's head. "Just be careful," she said. She let her gaze linger on Numair, sharp and bright. "And be smart."

Daine saw the King's Champion snap her fingers, then the mage-fire and the connection to home vanished like a feather on the wind.

* * *

"Be smart?" Daine said, scoffing, but she still looked a little worried. "As if we aren't always smart!"

"It never hurts to be reminded," muttered Numair. He rose from the chair and strode across the room. Why was Alanna glaring at him like that? The last warning seemed to be particularly directed at him, and it had not escaped his notice that Alanna's sharp eyes had kept flashing from his face to Daine's while the young wildmage was sitting very close to him.

He couldn't deny to himself that it was extremely comfortable, having Daine's small form leaning against his side. _I can't think of her like that,_ Numair scolded himself at once. _She won't want to always be near me, after a while. She's just happy to see me alive._

To his surprise, his heart ached at the thought of never being able to hold Daine like that. It wasn't acceptable between a teacher and a student, to be that intimate. Numair sighed.

A soft touch on his elbow nearly made him jump. Daine was beside him, looking up with a concerned expression.

"How are we going to get out of here?" she asked quietly. "If we can't cross the Inland Sea…."

"I don't know, magelet," said Numair. He lifted a hand, thinking to weave his fingers comfortingly in her tousled brown hair, but stopped himself halfway through the motion. _Bad idea, bad idea._

"I just know we have to get out of the capitol," Numair continued. "There's too many people we can't trust here that will be on the lookout for anything suspicious at all."

"We'd best go south, then," said Daine practically.

Numair shuddered at the thought of the daytime heat and the frigid nights. "It is probably our best chance. There we would be away from anyone in the city who is targeting us. I can shield us from Ozorne. We would certainly be safe."

"You still don't sound happy," commented Daine slyly.

She knew him too well, Numair realized - she could detect his mood from the slightest differences in the tone of his voice. Not many people he'd ever known could do that - only Lindhall, Onua, Alanna, and now Daine. She'd probably been doing for ages, and he had just not noticed.

"It's just frustrating," growled Numair. "Ozorne has got us trapped like rabbits in a snare – sorry - and there is so little I can do. I can get us to safety in the desert, but what then? We are still left with the problem of getting back to Tortall."

"We'll deal with that when we have to," Daine said firmly. "It'll be enough trouble to get to the desert, right? So let's get supplies here, while we can, instead of worrying."

Numair smiled. Sometimes it seemed like Daine's sensibility was the only thing keeping him from exploding with anger. He wondered vaguely how he had survived without her.

A knock sounded on the door, and Numair froze. He waited tensely as there was a pause, three more raps, another pause, and then a final knock. Relaxing, Numair opened the door to reveal a cloaked man holding a merchant trader's huge rucksack.

"That was fast," Numair remarked, taking the man's bag.

The man shrugged, still standing on the threshold. "I have connections," he said. It was Kaddar – he pulled down his cloak, revealing his dark face. "I contacted Lindhall as well. He is planning to come here after you leave, and he asked me to tell you that he wishes you luck - "

"Kitten!" squeaked Daine. She rushed to the rucksack, gently pulling out the unconscious dragonet and stroking her head with soft murmurs. "Oh, Kit, I'm so sorry…."

"She'll be alright," Numair said instinctively, trying to comfort Daine and assuage his own fears. But he didn't know what was wrong – and so he had no way of knowing if what he said was true. He glanced at Kaddar, who was still standing in the dark doorway. The prince reached into his cloak and pulled out three small, shimmering vials.

"Wakeflower, chicory extract, and a chamomile/poppy-seed mixture. We tried all three; the chamomile to see if we could induce her into a natural sleep that it would be easier to wake her from."

Numair nodded shortly; the prince was obviously smart - he had brought the three most likely things that would help Kit recover. And the idea of using chamomile and poppy seeds was undoubtedly clever. But still, he couldn't help a strong feeling of dislike springing inside him. Dislike, and an urge of what shouldn't be protectiveness.

"Hand them to me," Daine said, holding out her hand. She never took her eyes off the still form of Kitten.

Kaddar knelt next to her and placed the vials in Daine's small hand. Numair observed stonily as Kaddar's fingers lingered for just a moment too long near Daine's

Temper rising, Numair opened his mouth to caution the prince a little less kindly than he had before. But before any words came out, he stopped himself forcefully. _Think about it,_ Numair hissed inwardly. His mind was just showing him what he wanted to see - proof that Kaddar was courting Daine, which would be highly inappropriate. Why did he want to see that?

_Because then you could confront Kaddar and get rid of him, _said a nasty voice in Numair's head.

_It would protect her, to drive him away,_ he argued with himself fiercely. _She'd be devastated if she fell for him, only to find out he was fooling, or to remember that Kaddar had to make a political marriage._

_Stop it_, the rational voice in his head growled_._ It was obvious that Kaddar had only left his hand near Daine's to make sure none of the vials fell to the floor and shattered. Perfectly innocent and platonic. Yet Numair still felt like he should shove the prince out of the way. And though he knew it was partly to protect Daine, he wasn't quite sure that was the entire reason for his sudden sting of irritation. But he couldn't tell what was.

Grumbling at himself, Numair shook his head to clear it – there were far more important things to deal with at the moment.


	4. Worry

This one took a little longer, sorry! My updates will be slower because the dreaded, horrible, evil, awful, gods-cursed school starts in two days. Bleh. So I'll do my best. This chapter is one of my completely, utterly, insane ideas (maybe it can pass as _creative_?) so you may hate it. It might not be exactly possible/correct either; bear with me.

**fAiRiEpOwDeRiNg, Fyliwion, **and** AnkokuSama - **thanks for the reviews and compliments! It means a lot!

**bookworm914 - **I sent a reply to you already, but I'll also say something here in case anyone else wondered the same things. I kind of forgot about Numair's sword cut and hoped no one would notice (silly me) but since you did, I went ahead and edited Chapter 2, just adding a little bit about it. Daine definitely would have noticed the cut, spending a few hours with a shirtless Numair. And yes, the Graveyard Hag will show up.

**Jess - **this update is for you, I hope I've saved you from going crazy!

**EDITED**

* * *

"Try the wakeflower first," suggested Kaddar, pointing at a glittering vial in Daine's hand. "It's the most powerful."

"I know that only too well," grumbled Daine with a pointed glare at Numair. He put on an innocent expression.

"I didn't use _that_ much more than recommended, you know, I just wanted to make sure you were alright - "

"Oh, forget it," said Daine, smiling. Her smile faded, however, when she waved the wakeflower under Kitten's nose and nothing happened. Nothing at all.

Numair crouched down beside her, lifting Kitten's eyelids and turning her head, checking for any sign of wakefulness. Still the dragonet slept soundly, her heart beating slowly in her chest.

Confused, Numair placed a hand over the beatings and began to count – _one. Two. Three._ He knew the average amount of beats for a sleeping dragon - his favorite scroll on dragons that he had unearthed after the arrival of Kitten had contained almost every fact that was possible to know about the creatures. Kitten's heartbeat was too slow, even for a dragon in deep sleep. Slowed heartbeats meant slowed body functions, which could result in death if all the other places in her body didn't get enough blood or air. But _why_ were her heartbeats so slow? Numair knew of no simple, external spell that could induce a sleep deep enough to borderline death.

"What is it?" Daine asked, placing her hand over Numair's to feel Kitten's heartbeat as well. "It's still beating, she's still alive…."

"Something is wrong," said Numair. Kaddar rolled his eyes, as if to say, _obviously._ "No, I mean, this is not a normal sleep, not even a normal spell-induced sleep. Her heartbeats are slower than they should be. It's like… something has tricked her body into remained fixed just a step above death. It would be only too easy for her body to stop working completely."

"How do we fix it?" whispered Daine, biting her lip.

"I don't know," said Numair. "Because I don't know what's causing it. There is no spell of any kind on the outside - so it must be on the inside, and I can't exactly see that, because she's an immortal."

"I can!" said Daine breathlessly. "With my wild magic - I can check her life-force!"

Daine closed her eyes at once, and Numair watched with his magic senses as strands of copper fire escaped from Daine's form and entwined like vines around Kitten. Powerful vines, but gentle too – it was like Daine was creating a soft cocoon for the dragon, a warm place to live. After a moment, the young wildmage's face creased into a frown, and the copper fire pulled back. She opened her eyes, and Numair didn't have to ask - he could tell from her expression that there was nothing interfering with Kitten's life-force, which was not good. Because if they knew what the problem was, they could fix it.

"Maybe Ozorne knew we would try that. We will have to look harder."

"I don't know how to look anywhere else with my magic," said Daine, confused.

"Time for another lesson, then," said Numair, trying to be cheerful. His voice was strained even to his own ears, but Daine seemed to appreciate the effort. "Looking throughout the entire body of an animal - or in this case, an immortal."

Daine nodded eagerly in a familiar way - the way she always did before she learned something new. It was one of the things Numair liked most about her, he had to admit – her willingness to learn, no matter where they were or what was happening. Numair clasped his hands together.

"All right. You know how to share the mind of an animal - that is simply thoughts and senses - touch, sight, smell, hearing, and taste. I believe that you can go further than that. An objective view of a creature – you are still inside them, but not so personally, if you understand me. You are almost like an outsider, but you can witness what goes on inside their body."

"Like a living anatomy book," Daine interrupted.

"Almost," said Numair, nodding. "But – it's my belief that you will see it differently. Not as a mass of veins and bones, but as you always described animals - colors. I can't know for certain, though. It has never been done exactly this way before – healers have a similar method for treating people, but it has never been done with an animal before. For obvious reasons – there has never been anyone with your level of wild magic before."

"So I need to go in Kitten's mind," Daine summarized, "but as an outsider, and then I can find what's wrong with her?"

"Yes."

Daine nodded. Kaddar glanced between Numair and Daine, obviously confused about how this would really work. "Is it safe?" he asked worriedly.

Numair halted - he didn't like this part. "Overall, yes. But… Daine used to have trouble keeping her human self separate from her wild magic. She would transform into the animal she was sharing her mind with. In normal cases, that wouldn't be a problem. But this is a dragon."

"If I change into an immortal, I can never chance back," Daine murmured, worry creeping into her tone.

"Yes," said Numair. "But with the barrier I built for you, and all your new memories to keep your humanity, I don't think it will be a problem. You just need to know the risks before you do this."

"Of course I'm doing it," growled Daine fiercely. "If it'll help Kit, I don't care about the risks." She paused for a moment, glancing at the spelled dragonet. Suddenly she turned to Numair, fear showing in her stormy blue eyes, despite her words.

"Come with me. Share my mind; you'll know what's supposed to be there and what's not, you'll be able to guide me and tell me what to do." Her voice dropped, and so did her face. Was she ashamed? Numair grabbed her chin and titled her head up to look her in the eyes - his magelet had no need to feel embarrassed.

"And I'll feel better, being with you," she finished, smiling a little.

"Of course, magelet," said Numair, giving her a one-armed hug. He was uncomfortably aware of Kaddar's eyes following their every movement. "That's a good idea, in any case. You're right, I will know what Kitten's condition is faster than you will."

He turned to Kaddar, glaring daggers at the prince. "That means I need you to do something - look out for her here. If you see even the slightest change in her appearance, you must to shake her or me, understand?"

Kaddar nodded quickly and crouched beside Kitten as well. Numair scrutinized him closely, unsure if he was trustworthy - but either way, it didn't look like he had much of a choice. Numair adjusted himself so he could sit cross-legged behind Daine, and she leant back into his chest, closing her eyes.

Pausing, Numair marveled at Daine's ability to trust - she trusted him so completely, so implicitly, she could close her eyes and let him hold her while Numair entered her mind, even with all she'd been through. She was amazing.

With a few slow, deep breaths, Numair placed his hands on Daine's temples and concentrated on merging their minds. A few moments later, he opened his eyes, and found himself seeing through Daine's.

_I'm here,_ he told her in her mind.

He felt Daine nod as if he himself were nodding. It was always a strange feeling to share someone's mind, especially someone he was close to. It wasn't like he could read her mind - the only thoughts he could "hear" were thoughts that were intended for him to receive. But he could sense _feelings _- Daine was worried, but it wasn't even that simple. She must be worried about Kitten, and herself, but there was also something else he couldn't place. It was warm and comforting, but utterly unknown.

Now, however, was not to the time to dwell on that. Kitten's life was quite possibly trickling away as they sat. Daine raised her hands to place them on Kitten's chest, and suddenly Numair plunged through a darkness as impenetrable as the deepest stretches of the ocean. It never seemed to end; but then again, it was the first time Daine had ever tried to do this. Was this the feeling she got every time she entered an animal's mind, or if it was only different for him because he was an outsider sharing her mind? Perhaps it was a completely different sensation to be an outsider in an animal. Perhaps it was different because they were entering objectively, as she had said.

_Horse Lords._ Numair heard Daine's voice from somewhere, but he couldn't tell where - inside him? Around him? He realized that though they had no physical representation, they were still sharing a mind.

He had no eyes – but in a flash he was surrounded by a vast array of colorful, spinning lights. Reds and blues wove across everything in thin nets, and green and yellow swirled into one in the background. Dark shades hovered in patches. Sparkling and glittering, there were even magentas and purples and more colors than Numair could name – it was _fascinating_. A sort of aura pulsed from each strand of colored light.

_We're by Kitten's heart_, Numair thought. How he knew this, he couldn't have said, but he was sure. He could sense it from the auras around him.

_Everything feels… right,_ thought Daine, sounding unnerved. _Normal. Nothing's wrong here. And I can sense her life-force stronger, too; it isn't corrupted._

_I agree,_ responded Numair. _The problem must be somewhere else. I am guessing in her mind - because that controls everything._

He felt Daine's assent as if she had nodded. More lights whirled around him as Daine somehow managed to _move_ through Kitten. It was the strangest feeling he had ever experienced - existing, but not _being_.

_Oh, no,_ thought Daine. Something was clearly wrong, and in seconds Numair could feel it too.

_There's something that doesn't belong here, _he said, getting an overwhelming sense of "wrongness" from Kitten's brain. It seemed slightly familiar. Where had he felt it before?

_Any ideas?_

_Give me a moment, _Numair thought, and Daine fell silent. _Think._

Ozorne's magic. But magnified a hundredfold. That's what it was – this was the same feeling he got whenever he felt the emperor's magic in the air.

_Ozorne's fiddled with her brain,_ explained Numair. _The sparkling green. That's his._

_Yes!_ said Daine. _It must be – it's the exact same color! How do we fix it? What's the problem?_ Her thoughts were fast, and an overwhelming sense of excitement and worry swept over him.

Numair concentrated, trying to remember every bit of information he could, hoping something would help him. Anatomy lessons, studying immortals, and even healing - at one time, he had wanted so desperately to have healing magic that he had memorized countless texts and spells in the hope that he could_ teach_ himself to heal. Of course, it hadn't worked, but he still retained the knowledge. Some of it had to help.

_I think Ozorne has put some sort of spell on different parts of her brain, _said Numair, trying to find a way to explain his thoughts so Daine could understand. _ Dragons' minds are complex like those of humans, but at the same time different – humans minds are interconnected in every way possible. But in dragons, each part of the mind has a specific, sole, and separate purpose. Ozorne took advantage of that. It would have been hard with a young dragon like Kitten, since her mind is not "organized" like you described her mother's as being. But he did it, and now Kitten's body _thinks_ that it is dead, and yet basic processes like heartbeat and respiration still occur. Ozorne didn't want her dead, so tricking the brain into "thinking" that it _was_ dead, without stopping the body's processes, would be a foolproof way to ensure that Kit couldn't be awoken by spells or potions. It's disgustingly clever._

Daine was silent for a minute, like she usually was after one of Numair's long, academic speeches. He could imagine how her face would look - blue-grey eyes clouded with worry, brown curls spilling across her cheeks, mouth turned down in a slight frown.

_I don't understand completely,_ she thought at last._ But it's obvious that the spell needs to go away. Can you do it from here? Should we go back?_

_Back,_ said Numair. _I can't work magic from here. Now I know where the problem is, I'm pretty sure I can fix it._

_Pretty sure?_

_It's our best shot._ Numair knew spells that he could use to try and help Kit from outside, but he wasn't sure if any would completely solve the problem. But they had no better plan. _Send us home. Though this all is absolutely _fascinating.

_Always the scholar,_ thought Daine amusedly, right before Numair felt that same dark, plunging sensation again. Opening his eyes - physical eyes at last - he found himself still sharing Daine's mind, so he slipped back into his own body and took his hands off her temples. She gasped, as if waking from a nightmare, and turned to Numair, her eyes showing a mix of feelings, mostly worry, just like he had visualized.

"Can you fix her?" she asked sharply.

"I can try," said Numair, reaching forward to place his hand on Kitten's cool forehead. Kaddar shifted uneasily, obviously curious, but Numair was grateful that the prince knew better than to ask questions. It was never a good idea to distract temperamental mages in the middle of a working.

Numair let his magic flow through his fingers and into the dragonet's mind, feeling for that sense of wrongness expelled by Ozorne's magic. The warmth of his Gift colliding with something icy cold – Ozorne's spell. Easy part, done.

Now he tried two spells to displace it, to no avail. It was strong. Taking a deep breath, Numair concentrated and tried a third powerful spell. The cold of Ozorne's magic flickered - then vanished.

"It worked," Numair whispered, relieved and tired from using so much magic. Daine didn't seem to hear. He spoke louder. "It worked!"

"Kit!" Daine exclaimed, picking up the dragonet. Numair could see Kitten's breathing getting faster, and at last, she opened her sleepy eyes.

Kitten let out trill. It was still a little weak and tired, but happy - her scales turned from a deathly grey to bright blue in matter of seconds.

"Oh, Kit," Daine said. "Your ma was so worried about you, I'm so glad you're safe - "

Kitten blinked, whistled happily, and snuggled into Daine's hand. Numair patted her gently on the nose, grinning broadly. Kitten let out a noise that sounded like a purr.

"You better thank Master Numair," said Daine. "He's the one who saved you; you were - hurt, I guess. He fixed you."

Making her purring noise again, Kitten slid from Daine's lap to walk over to Numair. She stood on her hind paws so her face was level with Numair's, touched his nose gently with her muzzle, then she curled up in his lap, still purring happily.

Daine laughed and scooted closer so she could pat Kitten, and she laughed at Numair's obvious surprise. "She loves you, Numair, you're her da, don't look so surprised!"

Numair smiled. He _was_ surprised, sure, but more so flattered. Kitten loved him like she loved Daine - the care of Kitten was something they had always shared, but still, it felt like Kitten was like _Daine's_ child, not his. But looking at both Kitten and the young wildmage, he realized that he _was_ like father to the dragonet, and it filled him with a type of joy he hadn't really felt before. _Perhaps it's the joy of being a parent,_ he told himself.

_Or perhaps,_ said an innocent voice in his mind, _it's also joy from who you get to share the parenthood _with.

Numair pushed the thought to the back of his mind and let it sit there and rot.


	5. Hardships

Not much happens in this chapter, slightly filler. But the story must move on. Please leave reviews! I'll love you forever if you do.

**Jess **- thank you so much!!

**EDITED**

* * *

Alanna hefted her sword in her hand as the mage-fire vanished, then turned to hurry up the stairs and out of her small, dark room. They were at Port Legann, the first stop on their way from Carthak to the palace. The king had been distraught to hear of the loss of Daine and Numair, so Alanna knew she had to inform him as quickly as possible that the two mages were together and safe. Onua, Thayet, and quite a few others from the palace had come down to Legann to meet the returning, unsuccessful peace delegation, and it was imperative that they were found as soon as possible.

The entire courtyard was buzzing with activity and palpable anxiety. Roars from the ocean were barely audible over all the noise of preparations. On the other side of the gray walls, leaves swayed in the gentle breeze, but they were the only signs of nature throughout the clear sky. Dust blew up through the dry, open space, tickling Alanna's nose and making her want to sneeze. She gripped her sword tighter - the bangs she had heard earlier had stopped, but it was always better to be armed - before she spotted the head cook telling off a servant in front of a massive pile of broken ceramic pots. Alanna had to suppress a grin as she caught sight of Jon, Thayet, and Onua near the gate. She hurried over to them, noticing a small, ragged girl kneeling who was at the king's feet and talking quickly. She had cropped brown hair that was matted with mud and dust, dark skin as dirty as her hair, and a strong jaw. Clothes hung off her thin frame in tatters.

"Them - them that was injured l-left, maj'sty, but them h-hurroks kep' attackin', see, an' we didn' know what ta' do, so's I came a-runnin' here, an' - an' - "

The young girl let out a gasp and stopped abruptly as Jon knelt down next to her, took her chin in his hand, and smiled one of his heart-melting smiles. He was clearly trying to be comforting - but it didn't exactly work that way. Alanna glanced at Thayet and Onua - both women rolled their eyes. Thayet nudged Alanna.

"Does he do this on _purpose_? Does he even _know_ the effect he has on the majority of women?"

"I don't know, but she'll never be able to speak now," said Alanna in reply, watching Jon rise with a confused look on his face as the poor girl stuttered worse than ever. He tried smiling benevolently at the girl again, and Onua groaned. Alanna decided that _something_ had to be done - as good of a monarch as Jon was, sometimes he had _no_ common sense.

"Jon," Alanna called sharply, getting the king to look over at her. Then she drew back her arm and slapped him – hard - right across the face.

"What was that for?!" he bellowed, clasping a hand to his reddening cheek and wincing. Thayet and Onua nearly exploded with laughter, and even the young girl at Jon's feet was open-mouthed with incredulity.

"For being a dolt and not realizing what you do to the female population," growled Alanna, trying not to laugh herself. "Or, if you do realize it, then it's for being a dolt and _doing_ it."

Jon stared at her, dumbstruck, with one hand still held over his cheek, where red marks in the shape of a small hand were beginning to form. Then he cursed violently, causing the little girl to gasp in surprise. Thayet patted her husband comfortingly on the shoulder before turning back to the young girl.

"Please continue," she said kindly. "What's your name?"

"L-Leni, maj'sty," said the girl, dipping her head. "Jus' Leni."

Thayet smiled at her and held out a hand. Leni hesitated at first, but took the queen's hand and pulled herself shakily to her feet. She looked in a slightly frightened sort of awe from Alanna and Onua to Jon and Thayet. Thayet laughed. "You needn't be scared, Leni. Just ignore the king."

"S-sorry," said Leni, bowing to Thayet and glancing at Jon and Alanna. "It's jus'- I don' come from a place where people slap their kings an' they speak like the commoners do."

Onua and Thayet roared with laughter again, and even Alanna couldn't conceal her grin while Jon glared at the three of them. When the laughter died, Thayet bent to look Leni in the eyes. "Please, tell us what happened to your village and we will do all we can to help."

The girl nodded, meeting Thayet's gaze. _She's brave_, Alanna realized. _To come this far and talk to her monarchs like this._

"We was just goin' 'bout our daily business, maj'sties, an' then all them horrible hurroks came out an' started attackin' anyone who tried ta fight or run. The men all picked themselves up spears and suchlike but it was no use, them awful beasts just ran 'em straight through, they never 'ad a chance. They's killed so many people, an' then flew up an' started circlin', like, an' so's I ran while I could. We can't defend ourselves, maj'sties, not wi' so many dead and crops ruined. They might still be there, for all's I know, an' a-plannin' ta kill more."

The smiles at Jon's expense had completely vanished from all three of the women's faces, and Jon, too, was looking worried. "How many hurroks do you think there were?"

Leni seemed to have hardened as she told her story. She squared her little shoulders and met Jon's eyes. "Maybe 'bout five-an'-twenty, your maj'sty. Rolon killed one, but he was killed by another jus' after."

Thayet's eyes softened as the young girl's eyes began to sparkle with tears. "Tell us where your village is. We will send a party to deal with the hurroks."

Leni nodded, gulping, and pointed northeast. "Jus' a little ways thataway, your maj'sty, pass the bend in the road on'y 'bout ten yards. 'Tis the village called Laman."

"Thank you for telling us this," responded the queen gently. "It showed great courage. You must be tired, yes? Stay here until we can sort out the immortals. There is plenty of space for you. Rest and don't forget that you probably saved quite a few lives in coming here, Leni."

"Thank you, maj'sty, thank you," said Leni as a servant approached to show her to a room. She turned to go, but seemed to remember manners just in time - she whipped around to bow to her monarchs and address Alanna and Onua as well. "Thank you, maj'sties, an' - an' - m'ladies."

She hurried off after the servant, clearly exhausted.

Onua sighed halfheartedly. "I'm no lady."

Jon put his face in his hands, sitting down hard on a nearby crate. "The first large-scale immortal attack. There's going to be more. If what Leni said is true, they are still at large. We must send a squad out there as soon as possible."

"I'll take care of it," said Onua, turning to leave. "This is a job for the Riders. Hurroks are vulnerable to arrows."

Jon nodded, not bothering to respond. Thayet kissed him gently on his cheek. "We _will_ get out of this in one piece, Jon."

"I hope so," he muttered. At last he looked at Alanna. "I still don't know why you slapped me. But I honestly don't care. I probably deserved it."

"You did," said Alanna shortly. "You can't just _smile_ at women like that and expect them to stay sane. You're too attractive for that."

"What?!" spluttered Jon. Clearly, whatever he had been expecting from his Champion and friend, it was _not _that.

"Let Thayet explain later," interrupted Alanna. Jon glanced at his wife, who shrugged. "I have something important to tell you."

"I knew you must have had a reason to come here other than to cause me pain," muttered Jon.

"I've had word from Numair and Daine. He found her, and they're safe together at the University. They're planning as best they can to find a way home."

Thayet gasped, clearly delighted at hearing that they were safe, and Jon looked up with a hopeful glimmer in his blue eyes. "When did you hear from them?"

"Just now. I was trying to scry them, but Numair sent me a speaking spell before I got far."

"How can they get back?"

"I don't know, and neither do they quite yet," replied Alanna honestly. She knew Jon had to have the truth. "But they're doing what they can. We all know it'd be impossible to send them a ship. Ozorne's hold on the Inland Sea is unbreakable at the moment."

"Great Mother Goddess," prayed Jon, closing his eyes. "They're safe but stuck in Carthak."

Alanna heard shrieks and screeches in distance, carried over to them by the northeastern wind. A fierce Rider war cry rang out – Onua's voice – before the horsewoman led a mounted, armed group through the tall gates.

Alanna closed her mouth from the reply she had been about to give to Jon and Thayet. Instead, all three silently watched the horizon, hoping beyond hope that their two friends could return before any more people were hurt.

* * *

Something tickled Daine's nose under cool sheets. Opening a bleary eye, she saw the curled form of Kitten snuggling warmly against her face. Daine smiled and stroked the baby dragon, murmuring comforting words, immensely glad to have her Kit back at last. Kitten sneezed under Daine's tickling fingers, then whistled angrily, probably due to the fact that she had been woken from her sleep. She huffed while leaping out of the bed, heading toward Numair's room. The mage always tried to sleep as much as possible, so Daine figured that Kitten knew she wouldn't be disturbed there. Still smiling, Daine slid out of bed and followed her charge out the door so she could wake her teacher - they had to get going, after all. Kitten had obviously whistled open the locked door - and left it that way - so Daine walked in to find both mage and dragon sound asleep.

"Horse Lords, Kit, you'd think you'd never be tired again, with all the enchanted sleeping you had," said Daine, poking the dragonet. Kit opened an eye and trilled crossly, which woke Numair, who moaned and pulled a pillow over his face.

"Up," said Daine fiercely, leaning over and yanking the pillow off Numair. His eyes were clouded with sleep, but as he focused on Daine, he frowned.

"It's barely dawn," he croaked. Daine smiled.

"And just like you said, we need to get moving as soon as possible. So up."

Numair grumbled again, but staggered out of bed, still wearing only breeches - there really was very little clothing in Lindhall's rooms. Daine was still clad in the loose-fitting cloak from yesterday, but at least it was warm. Numair must be freezing. He hated the cold, and the underground rooms were always chilly. Especially in the early mornings.

"I take back what I said," mumbled Numair, still looking half-asleep. "We can wait and I can sleep."

"Hah," said Daine. She grabbed his hand and pulled him out into the main room where they could find some breakfast. "You _know_ what we have to do today. We'd best get a start as soon as possible."

"Fine," muttered the mage, rummaging around in a food cupboard and managing to find a few fresh pieces of bread. "You win, for now. You're unusually assertive this morning, you know - you didn't even give me time to wash my face."

"If I hadn't woken you, or if I'd left the room, you _never _would have gotten up again, silly."

"_Why_ do you have to know me so well?" he complained. Daine laughed and swiped a piece of bread from him. Kitten sulked in a minute later, an angry red color, but the dragonet softened when she caught sight of the food, as inadequate as it was. Kit was _always _hungry.

"You are a ridiculous creature," Daine said, passing her bread. "It's all we've got, for now."

Numair rubbed his eyes, at last seeming to wake a little more. "We'll go into market today - magicked, of course - and get good supplies. I'll put a glamour over myself; Daine, you can wander around as any animal you choose. Just be sure that you do not do anything anomalous. Kit can - "

"Anamo - what?"

"Anomalous. Uncharacteristic, or irregular."

Daine sighed; sometimes she felt like she knew so little around Numair. He must have noticed, for he smiled comfortingly at her. "Don't worry. You already have a far greater vocabulary than a majority of nobles in this world. You're quite advanced."

Beaming at him, Daine ate the rest of her meager breakfast, both embarrassed and pleased by his words. The mage laughed and ruffled her hair. "Anyway, what I was going to say was that Kit will have to stay hidden in the bag Kaddar brought. She can't be spotted, and she can't stay here, if we don't make it back."

Kitten trilled. Daine nodded and settled down to wait for Numair to complete his magic. He sat in the same chair he'd spent the majority of his time in yesterday - Kaddar had left a short while after Kitten had awoken, wishing them luck and promising to do as much as he could to find his uncle and get Carthak under control. Numair, exhausted from using so much of his magic to heal Kitten after having just expended so much energy defeating Ozorne and flying, spent at least three hours asleep in the cozy armchair. Daine had hated seeing the grayish tinge to the mage's usually swarthy skin. But, thankfully, after a while he'd had enough strength to make it to one of the adjoining bedrooms, telling Daine that they had a lot to do the next day. Daine had then taken Kitten and found another room.

It had been a hard day, and Daine had nasty feeling that the ones to come wouldn't be much better.

"Done," said Numair, turning to face her. Daine gasped, startled, at the difference in his appearance: he now appeared to be older, shorter, and much more ragged. Even those who knew him well probably couldn't tell who he was - but Daine had been around him so much that she could still recognize the familiar twinkle in his warm eyes. At some point, Numair had told her that it was impossible to ever change one's eyes - like the eyes were what tied someone to their being.

"Impressive," said Daine, looking him over. "Are you sure you're not too tired?"

"Of course," said Numair confidently. "I could do you, too; if you like. And have plenty of Gift left to spare; if you don't want to shift."

Daine shook her head with a smile. "I'm fine; I'll follow you as a sparrow again."

"As you wish," shrugged the mage. He seemed much more cheerful now that he had had time to wake up and gotten to work some impressive magic. Opening up Kaddar's traveling sack, the one Kitten had ridden in, Numair motioned for the dragonet to get inside. "Sorry, Kit. It's the only way. Be good, now."

Kitten grumbled, but slipped into the pack with a nudge from Daine's foot. Numair slung it gently over his shoulder. Transforming into a cactus sparrow again, Daine the cloak slither to the floor, and perched on Numair's shoulder. She could feel the magic of his glamour through her tiny claws.

"And now we're off," said Numair in a slightly worried tone. Daine rustled her feathers, hoping nothing would go too dreadfully wrong.


	6. Shocks

Hah, this one took a lot longer, and I still don't really like it. But whatever. It's finally starting get hints of fluff, and Numair is horribly confused! But that's what I love about him. And again, it splits, but the Tortallan action will become important in the end.

**Jess**** - **Only reviewer, thank you so much! I know I have certainly been guilty of forgetting to review chapters of stories, so I will continue to update as much as I can. I hope this chapter isn't too crazy.

**EDITED**

* * *

Numair quickly settled into an even gait, trying to cover ground quickly, but not appear anxious. He also wanted to make sure the little sparrow that was Daine didn't get separated from him; she was following at a safe distance. He knew she didn't want to lose sight of him, but it would appear very odd if the glamoured Numair had a sparrow sitting on his shoulder.

_Daine._ He found himself thinking about her, unconsciously - his mind kept turning over little things to relate to his young student. The morning hadn't helped - he had woken to find her leaning over him in such a loose cloak that it had fallen almost completely open at her chest. Numair gave himself a fierce mental slap.

The markets were busy enough to keep his mind distracted. Narrow roads meandered through tent after tent, filled with dark-skinned people and various colorful trinkets. Young children ran about, clad in rags and hands outstretched to passing buyers, but they hardly ever received so much as a copper. In the narrow gutters and along the edges of the road, there were thick pockets of mud and grime, emanating a stench that filled the entire market. Breathing mostly through his mouth, Numair tried to focus solely on the path ahead.

"Fish!" cried a skinny merchant from his side. "Fresh caught, sir, cheap charge - "

Numair hurried on without meeting the haggard old man's eyes. Having grown up here, he knew how the Carthaki markets worked - if you paid any amount of attention to a seller, whether you were interested or not, they would not rest until they had succeeded in striking a deal, or until various pickpockets managed to reach your purse. Glancing around quickly, Numair ignored the repeated shouts of vendors and beggars, trying to find a place they could buy clothes, plenty of long-lasting food, and camping supplies. Carthaki street markets probably did not carry things of good quality, but it was their only option.

Fortunately, clothes were easy enough to find. There were plenty of tailors' stalls lining the streets. Entering one, Numair grabbed himself breeches, shirts, and cloaks, then waited until he heard a few fast chirps from behind him - Daine's way of saying "yes" while in bird form - before picking out the size of breeches and shirts she would need. He blushed furiously when he had to pick out women's loincloths and breastbands. The owner of the stall leered at him.

"Gettin' ready for the pretty lady at home, are ye?"

Numair angrily slapped a sufficient amount of coins in the stallkeeper's hand. "Do not make assumptions on things you know nothing about," he said icily, barely managing to keep a few sparks of black fire from escaping him. All the same, the stallkeeper's eyes widened and he snatched Numair's coins without another word.

Buying camping supplies was far less embarrassing, but risky – they'd moved into the higher-class markets where the nobles of Carthaki shopped. Mages from the University, too, were present - and Numair knew the more advanced mages had the ability to see through even a well-done glamour if they actually took the time to look. Numair lifted his hand behind his head, appearing to scratch his scraggly grey hair, but actually signaling to Daine to come closer. She flitted to his shoulder and landed, hidden, in the folds of Kitten's bag.

"I've got everything we need," said Numair in an undertone, shifting his hold on the bags of their various purchases and hoping she could hear. "We might be able to make it back to the University before setting out. But we can't stay there. Ozorne's bound to start looking for us sometime. I don't believe he is gone."

Daine chirped. Numair looked around again, finding a back street that was completely empty. Behind a roughly built, deserted stall, Numair let Daine flutter to the ground. He dropped his cloak on top of her and she shifted smoothly back into human form.

"That went quicker than I thought," she said very softly, obviously fearing someone would find them. Secrecy was essential. "Should we head back or go south?"

"I don't know," whispered Numair before pointing at the four corners of their tiny niche, setting an effective enclosing spell. He began to talk normally. "I'm not sure which would be a better idea."

"That's helpful," Daine said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. Numair couldn't help but laugh. "Let's let Kitten come out."

"Of course," said Numair, opening the huge sack. Peering inside, the two mages found that Kit was sound asleep, curled into a tiny ball.

"I wondered why she was so cooperative," said Numair dryly. Daine laughed.

"Leave her be, I suppose," she shrugged. "I can't believe that's she so tired, she was out of it for so long under that spell."

"It may be a side effect from the original spell, or the spell I used to get rid of it," theorized Numair. "But I presume it'll wear off soon. Kit will be back as hyper as ever, I am sure."

Daine shook her head. "We'll have just as hard a time raising our little dragonet as always. We couldn't have lucked out so easily." The young woman reached her hand in the bag and gently stroked Kit's nose.

"I wouldn't want her any other way," he said sweetly, unable to resist patting the dragon too. For a brief moment Daine squeezed his hand.

"Maybe we should take a leaf out of her book." Numair studied Daine's face carefully for the first time that day. Her eyes were a little red and tired. "Do you want to rest? We can spare the time."

"Maybe for a bit." Daine tried to lean back on the wall behind her, but she flinched and drew back. Her hand went to her shoulder and came back spotted with blood. She cursed.

Taking one fast step, Numair was beside her, checking the cut at once. "Where did you learn to talk like that?" he joked as he extracted a piece of clean cloth from their bag of purchases. He saw a sharp nail sticking out of the wood behind her, and he frowned. Rust could be dangerous.

"From you. What cut me?"

"Just a nail." Numair finished cleaning the scrape. It wasn't very deep, so he decided he wouldn't worry about the risks of rust until they had gotten somewhere safe. "You are prone to danger, magelet."

"I think I've noticed," she muttered. She turned around with a sigh and leant against his chest, eyes closed.

Numair, on a sudden urge, wrapped his arms around her comfortingly. Maybe Daine still needed reassurance that he was really there? She did have to rest, otherwise they might never make it out of Carthak. Surely it was normal for a teacher to let his student take a break?

"You're not as comfortable with this magic glamour stuff," pouted Daine, breaking in on Numair's thoughts. "I like the real you."

"Oh, dear," said Numair with a smile. "I cannot make any allowances when it comes to your comfort, can I?" He drew upon his Gift, and his glamour shimmered for a moment, then disappeared.

Daine sighed happily and snuggled into his arms a little more. "Much better." She paused momentarily. "But that probably wasn't practical."

"It doesn't matter," said Numair, even though she was right. But still, she'd always been more important than his magic reserves. "I'll just create another glamour. It doesn't take an excess of energy, after all. We should not linger here extensively, though, you know."

"I know. Just a minute. Please?"

Sighing, Numair gave in. Even with the noise and bustle from the nearby street, it was quite peaceful, and a welcome relief from the period of stress and anxiety. He didn't know what was worse - worrying about what could happen to Daine or Kitten here in a hostile country, or worrying about what was happening to Alanna, Jon, Onua, Thayet, and everyone back home.

"Better get moving," the young wildmage murmured at last. Reluctantly Numair removed his arms from around her and she pulled away, rubbing her eyes. "I'll shift again. Do you want to spell those bags?"

"Good idea," said Numair. He muttered a few well-chosen words in Old Thak, and the bag of their purchases became invisible, feather-light, and tied to his person. They wouldn't lose them now. "I propose we head back to the University. Ready?"

A small cheep answered him; Daine had already transformed. Picking up his cloak – he found he ended up loaning it to Daine quite often - he removed his shielding spell and proceeded back to the hustling main street.

And suddenly, out of nowhere, a huge bang shook the entire city as the street in front of them exploded.

"_Ah_!" Daine's scream split the air while Numair threw a hand over his face, blocking the worst of the flying debris. Woken from her slumber, Kitten screeched, making her displeasure clearly audible over the chaos. Screams and shouts blurred all around them; people pointed in horror at the crater in the road - it cut cleanly into the ground, rocks and dirt stumbling only off the very edge.

"Daine!" Numair shouted without thinking - then cursed himself for saying her name aloud. Though it probably didn't matter, because the clamor around them was so great that he could barely hear himself think. Numair whipped around, only to see her lying sprawled on the road, completely naked, apparently forced out of her sparrow form by the blast. Luckily, everyone in the vicinity was too preoccupied to notice one girl. Numair stumbled over to her, his heart pounding in his ears, and felt at her neck for a pulse.

"What happened?" she slurred groggily with her eyes half-shut.

"Shh, magelet, I don't know," responded Numair, not bothering to whisper. There was too much commotion around them. With a quick swipe of his leg, he scooted Kitten's bag closer to him, and then draped his cloak over Daine's exposed form. "But I do know that we must leave - that explosion cannot have been a coincidence." He extended a hand to help Daine to her feet, an unfamiliar tingle rushing through him as she took it She swayed slightly and flinched at a loud squeal from Kitten. Numair braced the wildmage by her elbows, hushing the dragonet as best he could – a task no one was very proficient at. "Kit, we will be out of here soon, I give my word - "

"Numair!" gasped Daine suddenly, and Numair felt her small form ram hard into his chest, knocking him backwards a few feet. He tripped slightly, and an emerald-fletched arrow smacked the ground right where he had been standing mere seconds ago.

"Run!" yelled Numair, turning and bowling through the crowd of terrified citizens. He knew Daine would follow, and sure enough, a hyena soon raced alongside him. Keeping a tight grip on Kitten's bag and thankful that Daine had come up with the idea to spell the purchases, they dashed through the street, paying no attention to the screams and the few people who seemed to have an objection to them running haphazardly along the road. _Idiots,_ thought Numair. _Half of the road just exploded inexplicably, and they_ _think _we _are_ _going to ruin their stalls._

Another bang exploded from behind them. Numair went flying off his feet, throwing out his hands to break the fall. He barely registered the stinging. Gasping, Numair caught sight of Daine beside him - once again human and naked.

"_What's happening_?" she said again, forcefully rather than blearily this time, and pulled herself to her knees. Numair was about to pull another cloak out of the bag of clothes before feeling a dangerous, ominous rumble from the stones below them. _Another quake._

"_Move!_" he growled, scrambling to his feet as the thundering growls increased. Daine rose too, but her bare feet slipped in one of the muddy ditches on the side of the road. Praying he wouldn't hurt her, Numair pushed her roughly against a stone pillar, the only steady object in sight. He swung Kitten against it too, his protective instincts kicking into gear.

The rumbling, which was rapidly developing into wall-shattering tremors, nearly knocked the mage off his feet again. Shards of stone and wood sliced into his back, sharp and painful – he winced and gritted his teeth tightly. This magic, or whatever it was, was like nothing he had ever dealt with before - it was something he could only endure, powerless to prevent. He braced his arms firmly against the pillar, shielding Daine and Kitten from the debris. Numair felt his student's small body pressing against him - a comfort - yet he was still acutely aware of the fact that she was unclothed.

The shake didn't last long, though it felt like ages. Whoever - or whatever - was attacking them stopped very suddenly, the ground stilling underfoot. Feathers brushed against Numair's face - Daine flew up as a falcon, suited for swift traveling, and Numair took her lead. He hastily checked their supplies and made sure Kitten was secure, then he turned down a very narrow side street. Rickety houses towered above him, buildings that had been nearly destroyed in the unnatural quake.

"He – would – _not_ –risk – his – entire – capital – city – _collapsing_ – to find – us - " panted Numair, hoping rather than believing it was really true. If Ozorne was behind this, he would do almost anything to get back at Numair and Daine. Being in the narrow alleyways was an advantage if Ozorne didn't want to destroy his cities, but a disadvantage if the emperor decided it was worth it: Numair knew that he and Daine could be crushed by falling buildings if there was another quake. But this was currently their only chance to get away. His muscles screamed as he ran, faster than he had done since his time on the streets.

In the desert they would be temporarily safe – he hoped. At the moment, it was the best plan they had.

* * *

"Copper Isles fleet in the northeast!" shouted a sentry. Jon groaned.

In just four days, the situation at Legann had fallen into a rapid decline. From what Jon had heard, Caynn and Corus were not faring better. George was stuck at Pirate's Swoop in a siege. It was as if each of their separate enemies were collaborating to strike at the same time – which, Jon realized, was probably likely, though he couldn't imagine what the Copper Isles had to gain by working in tandem with an ever-increasing horde of immortals. This wasn't just random immortal attacks anymore. It was war.

"Jon, get people up on the east walls!" Alanna shouted from somewhere across the courtyard. Jon couldn't see her. "Stormwings!"

"Damn," Thayet cursed. Jon turned to look at her. Her beautiful face was worried, and faint crease lines appeared over her forehead, lines that had not been present before the attacks. Stress. It affected all of them.

"Get the third company of the Own up there," shouted Jon. Tilting his head up, he saw the Stormwings' approach, an ordered volley of growing black dots. A knight commander, clad in full armor, shouted to his men. In seconds, the Third Company was scrambling to the stairs curling up the stony wall.

"I'll get my bow," said Thayet, fixing her husband with a stern glare. "You know as well as I do that we need all the help we can get. I won't get injured."

"This is mad," muttered Jon. He knew it was pointless to protest. "I wish we had Daine and Numair here. Daine would be able to detect the immortals from a much greater distance and Numair could lay much more powerful protection spells on the entire fort." He sighed. "They bring welcome comic relief, too."

"I know," said Thayet gently, placing a hand on his arm. "But they will return. Soon. Alanna said that she had heard from them - "

"What if they don't make it back?" said Jon, suddenly intense. "What if they never return from Carthak? What if - "

"Stop being foolish, Jon," snapped Thayet. "That's war. There are risks. There are prices." Her voice lowered, and she seemed to be trying to reassure herself as much as him. "And they _will_ come back."

An earsplitting screech of a Stormwing made them both jump. "Go get your bow, quick," said Jon. As his queen dashed away, he stared after her, not really seeing. He hoped fervently that she was right.

This was being a king. This was living through war. He knew that many people – including himself, Thayet, Alanna - would not be leaving Legann and returning home for some time. Jon blasted apart a nearing Stormwing with an azure fireball, venting frustration and fear as much as aiding in whatever way he could. Now he could understand why Numair sometimes tended to make things explode to settle his temper - it certainly was very therapeutic. Even when Jon had significantly less blasting power than the black-robe mage.

Jon sighed. He prayed to the Goddess that his two mages would return safely. Numair and Daine were more than just essential assets to a battle - they were friends, and Jon didn't think he could bear to lose them, not with all the pain he was sure this war was going to bring.


	7. Pain

Fast update! I hope you think the new character in this chapter is _in_ character - she came out more cruel than I expected. But hey, you'll see who she is, if you can't guess.

**grayscales - **Hah, Jon annoys me sometimes too. He's just scared and stressed, which makes him do stupid things, but I think he's a good ruler. Sometimes all we see is perfect, kingly Jon. So it's fun to give him a weakness. It makes him more human.

**cutie-beaky, Irish Ninja Chick, and Fyliwion - **thank you!

**Starling Rising - **I'm almost more of a fan of the almost-fluff than actual fluff! So you'll get a lot of almost-fluff, but don't worry, there will be fluff-fluff. I'm too in love with Numair not to include some.

**EDITED**

* * *

Flying long distances always exhausted Daine, and now she had made two very long flights in just two days. She leaned back against the hard dune, pulling Numair's cloak more tightly around her. Even with the dune as a shield, the wind was still fierce. She a took a few deep breaths, glad to at last be out of the city and back in human form. The vast desert stretched before her, a shimmering expanse of sand as far as she could see, with the occasional grayish-brown clump of weeds or a lonely cactus. Even far off in the distance, there was nothing but dust, and a setting sun that was making the temperature drop steadily. It was a dead place, and Daine didn't like it, but anything was better than the place they had left behind.

"What in the name of the Black God happened back there?" she muttered, not really expecting an answer. But, as always, Numair gave her one.

"I don't know," the mage said, his voice weary. "Someone powerful wants us dead, and so there is no way to know all that Ozorne can do at the moment." He paused, tugging at his long nose, apparently deep in thought. "And those were more than just blasts, I believe. Tell me – why do you think you lost control over your animal form each time? Was it the actual blasts, or only shock?"

"I can't say about the first one. It was so sudden and nearly knocked me out, what with me being so small and everything," admitted Daine, trying to remember. She could only vaguely recall the first blast - only that she had come to fast enough to spot the archer targeting Numair. But she could remember the second one clearly. "The second, though - I felt like I was dropping through a lake, and then I ended up a two-legger again, but that time I was fully conscious."

"Odd," mused Numair. "A plunging feeling? That's the same way I felt when I shared your mind and we examined Kit." He paused to stroke the dragonet sitting between them. "So that is unusual for you? Perhaps it's a feeling when something or someone that doesn't naturally possess wild magic tries to interfere with it."

"Yes, I've never felt that before, it _was_ very odd," Daine said firmly, interrupting Numair's intellectual ramblings. Turning to him, she saw that his eyes were closed tightly.

It occurred to Daine that as tired as she was from flying, Numair had to be even more exhausted - he had gone on foot the entire way while carrying Kitten. Granted, they weren't yet a safe, long distance from the capitol, but still, he had traveled very far in very little time.

"We're staying here for the night, aren't we?" she asked. If he even _suggested_ that they keep moving, she'd need to give him a firm telling-off.

"I suppose," he said, to Daine's relief. He opened his eyes and glanced at her, grinning. "I'm too tired to go anywhere else. You wouldn't let me."

Daine couldn't help it; she had to smile. "Of course not." Scooting closer to the mage, Daine picked up Kit and held her up. "And Kit wouldn't neither. Right, Kit?"

"Kit wouldn't_ either_," corrected Numair. Kitten whistled happily at Daine's attentions, and Daine giggled as the young dragon wagged her tail imperiously in front of Numair's face.

"What is that supposed to mean?" huffed Numair, smiling.

"I think she's trying to tell you that you should never do anything without her approval," Daine explained with a grin. "But I don't know. Maybe she's saying you shouldn't correct my grammar as much, since it's fair enough as is."

"Ah, but magelet, that would go against my nature."

"Oh, of course." Daine rolled her eyes, and kissed Kitten on the nose gently. "He's just crazy, isn't he, Kit?"

Kit whistled in agreement, turning a deeper shade of blue. Numair sighed in an exaggeratedly hopeless fashion. "You might want to try talking about me behind my back when I'm not right next to you, you know."

Sighing stubbornly, Daine leaned her head on Numair's shoulder. "But I like being right next to you, so you will just have to listen to me and Kit gossip."

"Bad as the palace maids, you are," grumbled Numair, but Daine felt his arm slip around her all the same. He always seemed to know just how to comfort her, even if she hadn't voiced her concerns. Under all the jokes and playfulness, both mages were fully conscious of the problem that needed to be solved before they could relax.

"So," said Numair with a sigh. "So. The blasts forced you out of your animal form."

Daine nodded. Again, she called back her memories of the second blast and the quake that followed it. "Was that natural?" she asked, before realizing Numair proably had no idea what she was talking about. "The earthquake, or whatever it was, I mean."

"Er - I don't know," Numair stumbled, blushing slightly. Dainee could easily guess why – considering her state of dress during the entire mess, it was understandable why a man with such a strongly ingrained sense of honor would be a bit flustered.

"Don't worry," said Daine, with a teasing grin on her face. "I'm not really embarrassed, you know."

Numair looked at her incredulously, dark cheeks still a little pink. "You don't find this just a_ bit_ awkward?"

Unconcerned, Daine shrugged. "I trust you, Numair."

Numair didn't say anything for a moment, and Daine glanced up at him. His dark eyes, fixed on her, flashed for a fraction of a second with something she couldn't exactly read – but it was gone, and he was grinning. "You amaze me sometimes, Daine."

_And you confuse me sometimes,_ thought Daine, meeting his eyes and frowning. _Why on earth would it be surprising that I trust you? Men._

"Anyway," she said, deciding to forget the brief look, "were you hurt? In the earthquake?"

"Let us hope it was only an earthquake," said Numair, suddenly breaking eye contact and looking off into the distance. "Just a few scrapes on my back. No worse than the nail cut you have."

"Let me see," commanded Daine, instantly worried. Numair always downplayed his injuries.

"There is no need," he insisted, taking his arm from her waist and running his hand through his raven-black hair in a valiant attempt to be casual. Daine scrutinized him closely, and sure enough, she saw him wince.

"Numair," she said in a dangerous voice.

"Fine, fine," he muttered crossly, turning and pulling off his loose, ragged shirt with plenty of irritated muttering.

Daine gasped at the state of him. Yellow, multi-colored bruises bloomed spectacularly all across his shoulders and sides, crimson lines and marks crisscrossed everywhere, and blood was congealing around a deep slash on his lower back. He looked like he had been beaten. Resembling an overripe fruit slammed on the ground, Daine couldn't imagine how Numair had made it this far into the desert.

"Odd's bobs, Numair!" she hissed, fury rising to hide her worry. She stood up and glared down at him fiercely. "You shouldn't have stayed around Kitten and me like you did, you're ripped to pieces, and you, taking the all the forces of it so I wouldn't - "

"Your grammar slips when you're distressed," he commented lightly.

"By Shakith it does! Did you think I couldn't take a few scratches myself?"

"No! Daine, I know you're strong. But I wasn't sure what we were facing back there. If it had been a stronger quake, then something more dangerous – something larger - might have fallen. Something that I could withstand and you couldn't, simply because I'm bigger than you." Numair stood as well, making Daine raise her head so she could continue glaring at him. "There wasn't anything I could to do stop the shaking, so I did what I could. I protected you. I would have been cut up either way, and at least this way you kept the strength to fly here and scout the surroundings, which was essential."

Daine sighed, relenting. Kitten was pacing, agitated, around her knees. "I don't like seeing you hurt."

"I don't like seeing you hurt either, magelet, so I do what I can to keep you from _getting_ hurt."

Biting her lip, Daine knew she couldn't argue with that. "I'll treat your cuts, then," she said after a moment. "Did you buy any salve?"

"Yes," said Numair, waving at an empty spot on the ground and muttering something unintelligible. Three bags – their supplies from the Carthaki street markets – materialized there, and Numair pointed to the smallest one, a drab grey sack full of lumps. "In there."

Daine nodded and extracted the jar of spelled herb-salve from the variety of lightweight cooking tools and dried camping food. After a bit of a struggle uncapping the jar - Numair ended up using a showy bit of magic to make the cap go flying off into the air, drawing a grudging smile from Daine – the girl pressed the ointment to each of Numair's cuts, making sure they were all clean and would heal well. Three were deep and still oozing blood, so she ripped off a fresh piece of Numair's cloak to wipe the blood away and bandage them. A few silent minutes later, she stepped back, watching the magic of the healing salve slowly diminish the size of multiple bleeding cuts and bruises.

"There," she stated, satisfied that he would heal. "Feeling better?"

"Much," he said with a relaxed sigh. He sat down again on the hard, dusty ground by their bags. Kitten chirruped happily and curled up on his lap, making Numair smile as he trailed light fingers over tiny wings. "Fascinating," he said softly.

"We'd best set up camp," said Daine, walking over to the bags and beginning to search through them for bedrolls. "You know more about the desert than I do. Where would it be best to place the bedrolls?"

"Alongside the dune," said Numair, gently lifting Kitten and placing her on the ground so he could stand. Kitten clicked indignantly, turning slightly grey. "Sorry, Kit, work to be done," Numair apologized. Turning back to Daine, he said, "The dune will protect us from a lot of the desert's gales. It will be cold, but we can build a fire and I can secure the area with my Gift."

Daine nodded, and the pair fell into the casual ease of setting up camp. In less than twenty minutes, they had bedrolls set up, latrines dug, and a place set for a fire. Numair drew a protective circle around the camp, hiding it and also providing a bit of protection from the elements. Daine rubbed her stiff hands together as the evening set in, and she started to get out cooking materials, thinking longingly of a hot –if distasteful – dinner.

But something stopped her. A vague whisper floated across the wind, hardly noticeable; Daine couldn't understand it in the slightest. Stopping in her tracks, she shifted her ears to those of a bat's, but no additional sound became audible. She threw a glance at Numair and saw that he hadn't reacted at all - maybe the whisper was in her mind.

As soon as she realized this, the whispering exploded into an unbearable screech of fury. Gasping, Daine clasped her hands over head and dropped to her knees. She was distantly aware of Numair rushing over to her, placing comforting hands on her shoulders, but drawing back as if he'd been burned. Daine's vision clouded slightly as a familiar, old woman appeared. Only this time, she was not wearing a wicked smirk, but an expression of horrible, contorted wrath.

"_You idiot mortal__!_"

The voice grated against all of Daine's senses; she screamed with the agony of it. She didn't know whether the Graveyard Hag had spoken aloud or in her mind, but either way, it hurt far more than even the time when she had heard the griffins' voices at Pirate's Swoop. Numair was shouting something, vague and in the distance, probably trying to find a way to help her. But in seconds, all she could feel was the pain of the Hag's anger.

Soon even Numair's voice faded, and everything around her shifted rapidly. The desert disappeared, replaced by a whirling white fog that was opaque and solid under her feet but had consistency of air around her body. The enraged goddess stalked over to Daine, halting inches away from her, and it took all of Daine's strength to keep herself looking into the Hag's rage-filled eyes.

"I gave you to ability to awaken the dead - to throw Ozorne off his throne. And what happens? Part of my city is destroyed, the country will be in chaos with a mad leader who's vanished and is still able to destroy anything in his path - stupid girl!" The Hag stretched out a hand, and with strength that could only be found in a god, slapped Daine hard across the face. Daine crumpled, trying to perform coherent words through gaps of pain.

"Please - I didn't - we're not-"

"I don't care what you have to say," hissed the Hag. "You are of no use to me any longer, _dearie_. I should never have trusted this to a vessel. Damn the rules, I'll do it myself."

A whistle made the Hag look down. Kitten was trilling shrilly at the malicious goddess, bright red, furious. Wherever Daine and the Hag where, Kitten could obviously follow, even if Numair couldn't. And whatever the bold dragonet was telling the goddess, it was clearly not kind, and Daine's heart clenched suddenly in fear.

"Get out of this," growled the Hag viciously. "You're lucky you are well watched by your powerful sires, Skysong. Otherwise I would get rid of you. You are interfering, pesky, and - " She flicked her fingers, and there was a bright flash of light. Kitten was gone.

"And you should not be here," the Hag finished cruelly.

"No!" shouted Daine, horrified. "Kit! No!_ Kitten!_"

"You needn't worry about her," said the Hag dryly, as if she wished Daine _did_ have reason to worry. "I simply banished her. Dragons are interfering. They can walk as they please between realms. I just sent her back to your stupid little friends, and that basilisk."

"Kit," Daine gasped. She squinted her eyes hard against tears.

"She's safe, so stop your crying, and look at me!" The Hag screeched angrily, lashing out at Daine. "You are a worthless little bastard! You do not deserve the gifts and the blood and the protection of gods. I have no power over your filthy blood and powerful friends - but I can take back what is mine!"

She yanked Daine up by the shoulders, her nails gouging into Daine's skin with a burning fire that spread through her entire body. The flames blew up in a sudden, fierce second, a blazing pain shot across every fiber of her being, she couldn't think, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't scream –

Daine's vision blacked out, and she fell, conscious of nothing except pain.

* * *

"_Daine!_"

Numair watched, frozen, as the young girl dropped to the ground, letting out a gasp of pain. Horrified, Numair rushed over to her, trying to grab her shoulders and see what was wrong. But her skin was scalding to the touch. Numair pulled back his fingers, ignoring the slight sting of the burned tips. His heart beat wildly out of control; Kitten shrieked some sort of warning, but he didn't pay attention. Sending out tendrils of his Gift to try and cool or grab Daine, Numair watched helplessly as the magic melted away from her form.

Daine started screaming. There had to be something he could do, anything -

"Daine! Daine, listen, can you hear me?" he called desperately. No response. Something was there, something that Numair couldn't see and that was too powerful for his spells to affect. And it was clearly causing Daine unendurable pain. The sight of her – agonized - nearly ripped his heart in two.

Her body filled with an eerie light and rose high into the air. Twisting in every direction, Daine yelling as if being tortured, as if some unknown force was tearing her apart. And then, in flash of blinding white light, she vanished.

"_Daine!_"

But she was gone. Numair stared at the place where she had disappeared, shocked. Then Kitten whistled angrily, jumped into the air, and disappeared in exactly the same place.

"Kit, not you too," said Numair weakly, losing the energy to shout. But it was only a second before he realized something - though Daine was clearly taken against her will, Kitten went willingly, to wherever they were. He knew dragons could travel anywhere they pleased between realms. The Realms of the Living, the Peaceful Realms -

The Divine Realms. Gods. The Graveyard Hag.

Numair knew, suddenly and without doubt, that the Hag had taken Daine. And, being neither god-borne nor immortal, there was no way he could get to them. Which meant he was stuck here, alone, unable to do anything except wait.

Wait and pray to whichever deity could hear him that Daine would return.


	8. Tricks

This may seem a little shorter than others, but that's only cause there's a lot of breaks in it! The next chapter will be longer, too.On we go...

**Irish Ninja Chick **and** angelic-ninja - **thank you! Your consistent reviews mean so much!

**fAiRiEpOwDeRiNg - **Haha, I've always thought she'd be meaner than she's portrayed in the books, considering she's the Black God's daughter, her patron country is Carthak (and we all know that place has problems), and she's a cheater. So I thought it'd make sense she had a mean streak. I can usually get a lot of writing done on weekends, so I update faster then, and sometimes can even get ahead! But I dunno, for some reason it seems weird to post more than one chapter a day, so I save the ones I write ahead and I'll post them during the week (cause I can't write as much then).

**Jess -** I actually didn't mean for it to be a cliffie! But hey, if it entertained you guys, maybe I'll do more... -evil cackle- And it made me sad to have Kit go, but she would get in the way of the other parts of the story. But ah, I love her so much.

**EDITED**

* * *

Numair paced; he knew of nothing else he could do. The Graveyard Hag was at her most powerful here in Carthak, for they had not yet ventured deep enough into the desert to be under the influence of Jihuk, god of desert winds and demons. The Hag was a crafty risk-taker who was especially competent when it came to completely disregarding rules. Overall, one of the worst gods or goddesses to be associated with, excluding perhaps Kyprioth the Trickster and Mynoss the Judger. Even the Black God, though he ruled the Peaceful Realms, was forgiving. How could Daine survive such an obviously unfriendly encounter with such a goddess as the Hag?

He was helpless to intervene. Daine was strong, he knew; she might have the strength to survive divine power being pulled from her. And nothing from the mortal realms could ever stay permanently in the Divine Realms, not without direct interference from Mithros and the Goddess themselves. Daine would return. Kitten could come back whenever she wished - unless she was incapable of returning.

_Don't think about that,_ Numair scolded himself. _The Hag is short-tempered. This shouldn't last long. Daine _will_ be back._

He tried as hard as he could not to think about the other possibility - that only Daine's body would return, her life sucked out with the force of removing divine power.

At last, a brilliant shape illuminated the sky - a burning, silver human form. Daine dropped from the air, her face white as chalk, and Numair rushed forward to catch her. Hope flared painfully in his chest.

Every bit of her skin was hot and sweaty, but it wasn't scalding like it had been before, and color was starting to return to her cheeks - she had a pulse. As soon as Numair's arms closed around her, the girl shivered and fell still.

"Daine?"

She let out a soft murmur, completely incoherent. But it was her voice, sweet and real.

"Daine," he repeated, softly this time, relief flowing over him. He laid her carefully on her bedroll, taking care to set her down gently and not wake her. He didn't know what she had just gone through, but at the moment, he didn't care. He just needed her to be safe. Pulling off her boots, Numair set them beside the bedroll and lifted the blanket to cover her. He brushed his hand lightly across hers - and to his surprise, her fingers clenched around his before he could move his hand away, as tight as someone looking for their only chance of safety.

"No," he heard her whisper, barely audible. "Stay."

"Of course," responded Numair instantly, without even thinking, squeezing Daine's small fingers. His heart fluttered rapidly in his chest. "Of course, magelet."

He sat beside her with no desire to move. Looking at Daine's face, calm in sleep, he realized that what he had told her when they arrived in Carthak was only too true - she _was_ becoming a beautiful young woman. No longer a girl. Not only in appearance, Numair knew - she was maturing. Daine had already been forced to grow up faster than the average child: by the age of just thirteen, she had dealt with lifelong scorn, the death of her only loved ones, losing her humanity to her wild magic, being hunted by her own villagers. But now she was rising. She had come to Tortall and learned to trust, learned about a part of herself, and that she was worth something. Now Daine was a strong, confident, beautiful woman. What was there _not_ to love about her? There was, of course, her unavoidable stubbornness, her repeated cheek, her never-failing willingness to risk her own life, her courage that could get her into so much trouble, her habit of forcing him to take care of _himself_, instead of her.

But, all in all, it made her Daine. She wasn't like anyone he'd ever met.

Numair smiled; his magelet certainly was an amazing person. Even with all that had happened to her, she still had the ability to live, laugh, love. If he could ever be half the person she was, he would know he had done something with his life. As Daine fell into a deeper sleep, her fingers loosened around Numair's, and he reluctantly drew his hand away from her comforting touch. He liked the feel of her hand in his. Sighing, he cast warmth spells over their camp and extra ones on both blankets; desert nights were frigid. The sky was almost dark – he didn't realize just how long he'd been sitting with Daine, though he should have noted his various limbs falling asleep. Shaking out his hands and feet, Numair rose and considered lighting a small fire to smolder during the night. But he would have to count on his magic for now. He'd never fixed dinner, or lunch, for that matter, and so they had no fire already in the dull-embers stage. Numair settled into his own bedroll and breathed out slowly. The night air was growing colder fast.

Turning on his side, he laid so he could look at Daine one last time before drifting into sleep. Her face was framed by a tangled mass of brown curls, falling gracefully on pink-tinged cheeks, and long eyelashes rested lightly over her eyes, like tiny black feathers brushing a pale canvas. Her lips were slightly apart. She gripped the blanket with two small hands, resting right underneath a stubborn chin.

Numair had to try and reconcile himself with the fact that he'd never fall asleep if he watched her like this - she really was too beautiful for her own good. He rolled over muttered grumpily that he must be becoming a lecherous old man, staring at his young student like that.

* * *

_Opening her eyes, Daine found the face of a man over her, a man with curly hair and antlers protruding from his head. Next to him was her mother, looking worried and anxious._

"_There, my sweet," she said, stroking Daine's head. "You'll be fine."_

"_Where am I?" asked Daine sleepily. She couldn't see anything past the two faces bent over her._

"_Is it time yet?" the antlered man said grumpily. "Look what the Hag did to her, surely she can come now."_

"_Not now, love," said Sarra. "Sleep, Daine."_

"_But," said Daine, glancing at the man and then back at her mother. "Ma, I want to… to…."_

_But Sarra placed a cool hand on Daine's forehead, and she felt herself growing drowsy. Despite all her efforts to keep her eyes open, her eyes closed against her will, and the dream shifted._

_Now she was in an wooded clearing, a small pond on one side and thick trees surrounding the rest. Wind blew across her face and leaves rustled. Everything was sharp, familiar, and very real, different from the blank atmosphere around the two people she had seen before. Blinking rapidly, Daine focused on the shape of a man approaching through the dense forest. It was Numair._

_Without a word he took her up in his arms, and Daine slipped hers around his neck, clinging to him desperately. She knew where she was now - it was clearing where they had seen the undine together, and Daine had looked at her teacher and discovered that there was someone she could trust and somewhere she could belong. _

_But now the feelings that rushed through her were different. She felt a fierce longing to be near him, so strong that it made her heart strain against her chest. Numair held her tightly, rubbed her back, loosened his arms. She could see his face now. His eyes burned with a dark intensity, and then his lips were on hers, filling her with a fire that was completely unfamiliar. _

_But she found that she never wanted it to end._

* * *

The Graveyard Hag paced furiously. She should never have let any mortal perform a job that was fit only for gods. As much as she liked Daine's sassy personality, the girl was of no use if she couldn't carry out the Hag's task. She'd have to do it herself. Or, at least, get a more powerful lackey to help her.

Snapping her fingers, she summoned the one god she knew was intelligent and was perfectly placed for her needs. A man with short hair, beard, and sparkling dark eyes popped into her line of vision.

"Dear sister," he said charmingly. "You called?"

"I did indeed," she grumbled. "I need you help me."

He raised one quirky eyebrow. "Why would I do that?"

The Hag put her withering hands on her waist, glaring the man down. "Because there's plenty in it for you. Remember when I sabotaged your plan with the leader of the Rogue? Well, if you help me now, I will never interfere in your plans again. No matter what you try to do. I will even aid you, if ever you request it."

The man titled his head, considering. "Tempting. What is it you need me to do?"

The Hag smiled a crooked grin, revealing five decaying teeth.

* * *

Onua sat hard on the bed in Thayet's room, staring disbelievingly at the shape on the queen's pillow. It wasn't _possible. _After fighting hordes of immortals – they were growing in number by the day – and waiting on tenterhooks to see if the Copper Isles were making any move to advance, her exhausted mind was obviously playing tricks on her out of spite.

"Kitten?" she said incredulously. The dragonet screeched unhappily, obviously confused, and wanting her Ma back. Onua stretched out a tentative hand. She'd always liked Kit, but there was no telling what the dragon would be like in such an angry state. "Are you alright?"

Kitten let a cry and turned a dark grey that Onua recognized as miserable. Cautiously, she reached out and scratched the dragon's head. Kit let out a heartbreaking moan, and Onua was suddenly seized with worry that something had happened to Daine and Numair.

"Thayet!" she shouted. "Jon? Alanna?"

None of the three she called appeared, but a veteran Rider poked his head through the door. He had a fresh cut on the side of his swarthy, thin face, probably due to an unlucky encounter with a hurrok. "Did you need something?" he began - then he caught sight of Kitten. His mouth fell open, making his elongated face seem even more stretched in surprise. "That's _never _- "

"Yes, it is," said Onua sharply. "Go fetch Tkaa, quick as possible. He's in the infirmary, I think, trying to teach any mage how to fight immortals, no matter what type of Gift they've got."

"Oh - of course," the Rider stuttered. He took one last glance at Kitten – he was on old enough member of the Riders that he knew the dragonet, but not yet so used to seeing a creature like her in everyday life. The young man whisked around and out the door, fast footsteps pattering across the courtyard. Onua focused on Kitten again, who laid her head lightly on the woman's knee, eyes dull.

"Poor Kit," Onua whispered. "You lost your ma and your da, didn't you?"

Kitten whistled in the tone that Onua recognized as an agreement. But she couldn't gather any more than that. They would need Tkaa to translate, for no one else present at Legann could fully understand Kitten's chirps and sounds. Only Numair and Daine, and they were gone. Lost somewhere in Carthak.

Fervently, Onua prayed to Bain North-wind, Chavi West-wind, Vau East-wind, and Shai South-wind that Tkaa's translation would not bring more pain and loss.

* * *

The short-haired, bearded man left with a flourish, and a spell similar to the one he had just used flashed in front of the Hag's vision. A man she recognized, with gold and jewels adorning every inch of his body, stepped out of the light to smile slyly.

Ozorne. For a moment, the Hag was filled with such strong fury that she nearly torched the man on the spot, regardless of whether or not it would be considered "interfering" in mortal affairs. Ozorne had somehow found a way to the Divine Realms - perhaps he didn't fall under the category of "mortal" any longer. But, on a second thought, she thought it might serve her well to hear what he was here to say. After all, her current stream of hatred was directed mainly toward the girl. The stupid mortal who'd failed despite a goddess's gift.

"What do you want?" she said bitterly, spitting at the emperor's feet. "Coming crawling to me for forgiveness?"

"I have nothing that needs be forgiven," said Ozorne, bowing formally as if they were on the best of terms. The Hag cackled.

"Sure, sure. I'll let you live under that delusion for the next few minutes. How've you been, then, dearie?"

"Marvelous," Ozorne replied smoothly, not taking his eyes off the Hag's, though she noticed his body was tensed with apprehension. "I have just completed a nice gift for the Tortallans."

"I'm sure it's delightful, sonny."

Ozorne didn't reply. He smiled and snapped his fingers and silver shackles with glowing green markings appeared around the Hag's wrists and ankles. No chains extended from them, but the goddess could feel a slight pull towards the mage. Clearly, he meant to capture her. To capture and control a _god._ The Hag nearly burst out laughing, and again, she barely restrained herself from blasting the emperor into a pile of ashes. For all his education and power, he was astonishingly stupid - the Hag could tell how strong the power was on these shackles, and they might have bound a very minor god or immortal. But they were nothing to her.

The Hag, however, was adverse to open displays of power to achieve her needs. She was a cheater. She wanted Ozorne dead, and she also wanted that half-god destroyed too. The girl was still alive, so that meant that the Hag couldn't have done a thorough enough job withdrawing her powers. So perhaps she could use the emperor. He was sure to seek the girl, and if the Great Gods believed the Graveyard Hag was under Ozorne's control, they could not punish her for messing with lives of mortals. Surely.

"My," said the Hag, deciding to play along. "This changes things."

Ozorne, who had been a frozen as a glacier, relaxed, and his wicked grin widened. "Yes, it does. I need you to help me."

"Anything you ask," said the Hag. With completely feigned bitterness.

_Messing with mortals is _so_ amusing._


	9. Caring

Moving along, slowly but surely! This chapter is longer and there's a lot of dialogue, sorry. In case anyone asks - a trebuchet is like a giant catapult, and was used to hurl things from stones to disease-infected bodies at or over a castle's walls. Good siege weapons, which is why they were included. Just a bit of history - we just finished a unit on Feudalism and the medieval times, which is the time period of Tortall. Oh, and another plug for my other works. My two oneshots are up, yay!

**Irish Ninja Chick, Fyliwion, **and** ShadowofMidnight - **thank you!

**grayscales - **Yay, you picked up on it! I was really hoping someone would notice! Kudos to you. And thanks, I was worried she'd be a little too mean, and even though the story is AU, I'm trying to at least keep the characters as cannon as possible.

**Jess - **that is seriously like the best compliment I've ever had in my life. And don't worry, this story won't be stopping anytime soon, and it'll just get twistier, I hope!

**EDITED**

* * *

Warm air tickled over Daine's face, quite different from the nothingness in her first dream - but strongly reminiscent of her second. Grunting, she tried to sit up and open her eyes, feeling a soft blanket over her slip off her shoulders. Firm hands pushed her back down and rewrapped her snugly in the wool.

"Rest, magelet," said a familiar voice. Managing to open her eyes at last, Daine squinted at the blurry face of Numair. Behind him, she could see small fire with a pot simmering over it.

"Numair?" Daine mumbled, barely conscious. She struggled to focus on him - her vision was clearing, but slowly.

"Shush," he soothed, placing a comforting hand on her forehead. "You have a fever; you need rest. Do you remember anything that happened?"

Daine nodded, which ended up being a bad idea. Her head throbbed violently with the movement. Out of a mush of memories, she could only pick out a few things: intense pain, bits of conversation, comfort in a pair of strong arms.

"Stupid Hag," she mumbled. "She - she sent Kit home. And then I fell. Painfully."

"You had divine power pulled out of you," said Numair gently, taking her chin and checking her face for injuries. "It's a miracle you're even alive. Kit - did the goddess - ?"

"She sent her away," said Daine, her mind functioning properly at last. To Numair's protests, she struggled up so she could lean on her elbows. "To Tkaa. Said she was meddling, but that the dragons would be angry if Skysong – Kitten – wasn't safe."

Placing an arm around her back, Numair supported her into a better sitting position. With his other hand, he handed her a bowl of porridge. "Eat," he commanded. He wrapped his hand around hers. "Tell me what happened?"

Daine nodded and stared at the bowl of porridge, thinking. She was hungry, but she didn't want to take her hand out of Numair's yet and pick up the spoon. "I heard something on the wind, I thought, but it turned out to be in my head. It was the Hag, and her voice hurt. Like the griffins, only a thousand times worse."

Numair squeezed her hand again, and Daine felt strengthened. "She told me I was a stupid mortal, that she should never have entrusted _me_ to overthrow Ozorne, and then Kit came, and the goddess sent her away. She said to Tkaa and our friends, because the other dragons would be angry if Kit wasn't safe."

"And no wants a dragon angry at them," interrupted Numair wryly. Daine smiled, glancing up at him before continuing.

"Then she said she was taking her gift back. Because I didn't deserve it, or something, and I guess she thought it would kill me, because she said I was worthless, and that I don't deserve the gifts and blood and protection of gods. It was really odd."

"Quite," reflected Numair, absently rubbing her arm. Daine couldn't help it; she leant in and rested her head below his shoulder. "The gift of gods. Her gift. The protection of a god. The Badger, I suppose. The blood of gods…."

He looked at her very strangely then. "Daine, do you think there is a chance that your da was – _is_ - a god?"

"A god? Me? I'm no demigod. Just Sarra's bastard," she finished bitterly, remembering the Hag's words. "And I always will be. No matter what I do."

"Daine, that's not true," said Numair fiercely. "You are an amazing young woman with many talent and strengths that most people can only dream of having." He watched her closely for a minute, and Daine, suddenly uncomfortable, picked up her spoon and began to eat the porridge. "Are you sure you don't have any idea who your da is?"

"No, I - "

But Daine stopped suddenly, remembering. The man in her dreams - the one with the green-tinged skin and antlers who was always with Sarra. And, at one point, both the Badger and the Hag had essentially told her outright she was half-god. Hadn't they?

"What is it?" asked Numair urgently. "Are you alright? Does anything still hurt?"

"No," said Daine, jumping out of her thoughts. "No, I'm fine, I was just - I've seen this same person in my dreams, three times. Once when I died in Carthak, another time when Ozorne captured me, and just now, earlier. And in Carthak, the Badger told me I should listen to the Banjiku."

"Wait - when you _died_ in Carthak?"

"Oh. I died in Carthak, trying to bring back skeletons in the Hall of Bones, but I didn't know I should only use a spark of the gift, and I drained my life-force. The Badger brought me back, but not before I saw this man arguing with my ma and the Hag. He had greenish skin and antlers on his head."

Numair just stared at her, stunned. "You _died_ in Carthak?!" Daine couldn't help but snort at his expression. He shook his head. "You get into so much trouble without me to look after you."

"I could say that about you," said Daine, poking him in the chest. "I wasn't around and you managed to get yourself executed."

He stuck his tongue out at her, for all the world acting like a pouting child. "It wasn't really me," he protested. "I didn't mean to interrupt. It is just the slightest bit unnerving to hear someone tell you they _died_ when the person in question is alive and well right beside you."

Laughing, Daine snuggled closer to him, feeling him shift to accommodate. "Anyway, I saw the antlered man then, and asked the badger about him. He said I should listen to the Banjiku, who said I must be the daughter of a god. So now I've seen him a few other times, but I've still no idea who he is."

"Antlers, green skin," mused Numair. "Since he met your mother, he must be native to Galla. I don't know the gods of the northern lands. I don't think I've heard of him."

"It's okay." Daine shrugged, unconcerned. "I've been Sarra's bastard all my life, and now I've found a place where it doesn't even matter. Getting a da now wouldn't change much, really, would it?"

"You have an astonishing view on life, magelet. Now eat. I shouldn't have stopped you from getting your strength back."

"I don't mind," Daine replied, spooning a second bit of porridge into her mouth. "You should eat too. You haven't eaten since yesterday morning, and we had hardly anything then."

"I'd rather help you," grinned Numair. "There's plenty of food and we have some time. My spell shields us from sight, sound, and magical detection, though it will wear off, and we will - most likely - need to move."

"It didn't stop the Hag from finding us," muttered Daine. Numair glared at her; she frowned back. "You ordered me to eat, and now I am, so now I'm going to tell you the same thing. Eat, you ridiculous man."

Numair sighed and poured a bowl of porridge for himself. "Yes, _Mother,_" he teased, starting to eat. "Happy now?"

"Yes," said Daine, stubbornly. Numair squeezed her shoulder, and even though it was his usual gentle touch, Daine winced unwillingly.

"Hag's bones - Daine, I'm sorry, did I - ?"

"No," she assured him, feeling the sting in her shoulders fade. "It's nothing big." Daine shifted her shoulders so the cloak slipped off them, revealing the ten crescent-shaped cuts that were the marker of the Hag's fingernails. "You might not want to swear to her just now," she commented dryly.

"Daine, what happened?" Numair's voice was extremely tense, and his fingers brushed lightly across the sore scratches.

"She grabbed my shoulders to take her power from me," explained Daine calmly, in great contrast to her teacher. "It felt like - like fire running through all my veins." She still couldn't repress a shiver – and Numair noticed. His dark eyes flashed, but he didn't say anything at first.

"God-inflicted wounds," the mage commented finally, sliding Daine's cloak back over her shoulders. "There's nothing that will help them heal, nothing, and you will always carry scars."

"Great," said Daine bitterly. "Fantastic. Cuts and scars, nothing new."

Numair's smile was clearly forced. It didn't reach his eyes. "They will heal in the natural way. I'm just saying that no salve, healing, or bandage would be of any use."

Daine shrugged at that. They only seemed to hurt when something touched them, not whenever she moved, which was good, she supposed. She watched Numair in silence as they both ate, something else coming back into her mind. Her second dream. It had felt so real, like it had been playing off a memory, not invented by the deep recesses of her mind or sent by Ganiel, the dream god. The powerful sensitivity that had surged through her was completely new, and she had no idea at all what to make of it. Even if it was just a dream. And she had to know if _was_ only a dream, or if her tired mind had been playing back something that happened while she was unconscious. "Numair," she began tentatively. "While I was unconscious - did you - "

She couldn't finish. Very little was embarrassing around Numair; she really didn't know how to deal with this. Shaking her head, she muttered quickly, "Nevermind."

Numair looked at her, confused, but to her relief, he didn't press.

* * *

"They're getting closer," muttered Alanna angrily from her post on the tower. She squinted at the horizon through her spyglass – a vast expanse of glittering ocean, dark foliage and cliffs in the corner of her vision, and cloud-free skies. All normal – except for three tiny specks. Three ships, definitely moving forward, and fast. Faster than a ship should be able to move, and yet even when she grasped the ember around her neck, she could see no Gift powering the ships forward. Frowning, she flicked her fingers and sent a speaking spell to the king.

"How many ships?" he asked urgently after Alanna recounted what she saw.

"Three at least," reported the Lioness. "And there may be more to come. They're moving unnaturally fast, and yet there's no magic on or around them."

Jon groaned, and Alanna's heart twanged in sympathy. She cloud not imagine being the king in a time like this. "More mysteries," he muttered angrily. "Make sure someone's always keeping an eye on them and prepare the archers. If they have siege weapons, we need longbows at every side."

"Will bows really be able to do much? If they stay out of range – a trebuchet could fire farther than many longbows."

"We have the advantage of height," said Jon, though grimly. "Alanna, you know how such battles work better than anyone, you live on the coast. Will you oversee the defenses against the Isles?"

"I've spent more time away from home than at it lately," she growled. But it wasn't like she could refuse. "Fine."

"Thank you," said Jon, clearly relieved. "Alanna, I'm sorry – I know you want to see George and the children - "

"I know, Jon." Alanna sighed. "I've always known this is what my life would be like. I'm all right."

"Thank you," repeated Jon, softer this time, and then the speaking-spell disappeared. Alanna sighed again, glancing back at the approaching Copper Isles ships. They were already visibly closer. She sighed in frustration. Whatever she told Jon, every time she was away from home, she couldn't help a fierce longing to be back. But in wartime, it was always like this. Duties first, families second. Jon probably had it worse.

Shaking her head fiercely, Alanna headed down the shadowy steps of the tower to start organizing defenses against a siege. Imrah paced at the base of the east wall, and, realizing that he should probably be informed of this most recent development, Alanna turned towards him. She had barely made it two paces in his direction when Jon's voice sounded over her shoulder again. This time it was not a speaking spell – the king was running towards her, and fear darted through her body as she saw the king's expression. It took a lot to frighten Jon.

"Imrah!" she shouted quickly. "Get more sentries and archers on the east wall – ships from the Copper Isles approaching!" Imrah looked at her, surprised and confused, but Alanna had to trust that he'd follow her instructions. "Jon, what is it?"

"We just got a message from Raoul and Gary. Caynn and Corus are - are in trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" pressed Alanna through gritted teeth, when Jon didn't elaborate.

"Immortals," he said, fear flashing through his eyes. "Immortals no one has ever seen before. They described them like - like tall, faceless humans, long-limbed and pale. But they have a voice, even if they have no mouths. They said that the voices make the ground shake, they're so powerful. They make you forget who you are, what you're doing. It drives an army into chaos. They'll hum a tune that draws one in, draws in entire armies; it entices them to lose their way."

"How are they faring?"

"Raoul and Buri say Caynn has only lost eight men," said Jon, his voice strained. "Gary says the palace is holding, but he can't protect the entire city. Hundreds of homes have been destroyed. People are disappearing."

"Oh, Goddess," breathed Alanna. She closed her eyes, trying to keep herself cool and calm. Now would _not_ be the best time to be overcome with fear. "Did you get any word from the Swoop?"

"None," Jon said softly.

Alanna kept her eyes closed, not responding.

"Alanna, if something were wrong, we would have heard. It just means George is holding out against the immortals, even if he can't get a message out."

"There's plenty of ways out of the fort," hissed Alanna. "He could've gotten a message out. He was the King of Thieves, Jon, he knows _everything_ about - "

"Alanna!" said Jon sharply. She opened her eyes, glaring fiercely at him. "You must keep yourself controlled! We need to organize everyone to fight these creatures, and we need _you_. George will be fine – you are right, he was the King of Thieves, and he knows more than just how to send messages. He will do anything to keep his children safe, you know that, and he has got a talent for surviving. You _know_ that."

The fire in her – the fear manifesting itself into anger – burned out as quickly as it had come. Sometimes he knew her too well. "I can't stop myself from worrying. You can't tell me you're not afraid for your children, even though they're at the palace."

"Of course I'm scared for them," he said, rubbing his forehead, apparently unconsciously. It seemed to be something he did a lot under stress. "But I force myself to think about this. The war. Immediate actions. Strategies." His voice dropped. "Sometimes I feel I have to put _everything_ before them."

She knew what he meant; what he felt. She so rarely got to spend time with her little ones, and sometimes she blamed Jon for that. He was her king, after all. He was the one sending her to the ends of the earth to fight for Tortall. But he had just as many hardships and just as much pain to deal with. A father and a king. His life was full of times when he had to close his eyes to his children and focus solely on the realm.

And yet, they had both always known their situations. They both knew nothing was ever going to change.

"I'm sorry, Jon," Alanna said quietly. She grasped his shoulder, comforting.

"It's nothing," Jon sighed, placing his hand over hers. Dust swirled across the windy courtyard as they stood side by side, staring at nothing.


	10. Search

If this were a book, it would suck. As a fanfic, it's okay, I suppose, but this is another chapter where unfortunately nothing really happens, but it has to be here. I promise, the next chapter will be much more intense! Anyway, I don't really like this chapter, so I may rewrite it eventually, but for now I'll just work on the next chapters. They're going to be much more fun to write anyway.

**Irish Ninja Chick and Fyliwion - **thank you!

**grayscales - **Oh, wow, I don't think I could possibly live up to Tammy, but thank you! I love writing dialogue, because it makes the characters more real to me for some reason, more than descriptive paragraphs, so I usually end up with too much dialogue and nowhere near enough description. Ah, well. Haha, don't worry, I'm not an A/J shipper or anything, but I wanted to put a sweet moment between them. They're still friends, as much as they argue with each other.

**Jess - **Well, the plot's kinda come to a standstill in these last few chapters, but it'll pick up! Thanks so much!

**EDITED**

* * *

Yawning, Daine stood and picked up her now-empty porridge bowl. The sun was starting to get fairly high, and from what she knew about deserts, it was never good to be traveling in the heat of the day. They probably should have started moving an hour ago, but, as usual, Numair was far too concerned with her well-being.

"We had best start on our way," said the mage, echoing her thoughts. He rose, too. "Since desert land is so barren, the sun - "

"Scorches your skin and the wind burns your face," finished Daine, smiling. "I know. You made me go through that book on desert mammals before we got here, remember? It had a preface about weather, of all things."

"It did, didn't it?" said Numair curiously. Daine laughed, shaking her head as she tried to take a step forward. But the edges of Numair's long cloak caught under her toes, and she stumbled across the sand, before she found herself once again in Numair's firm grip.

"Why am I so clumsy lately?" she muttered, refusing to look up at his face. She knew she'd start laughing if she did.

"It's because _I'm_ here, magelet," he said pompously. "It is in the nature of women to act as if they are in need of aid when they are around handsome men. The dropping of a handkerchief, the _tripping_…."

Daine couldn't help it, she started laughing again. Punching him in the arm, she righted herself and placed her hands defiantly on her hips. "I always knew you were a Player," she accused.

Numair sighed heartily. "If I were a Player, I would have been banished from Tortall or placed upon Traitor's Hill because of all the treasonous things I have said in regard to my king. As it stands, I just get my rear soundly kicked by his Champion each time she forces me to learn swordplay."

"You fought the _Lioness_? No. You'd be dead."

"Probably, if I hadn't devised a spell to protect me from sword cuts. Unfortunately, it does not remain powerful for long periods of time, so it can't be used in practical situations. And before I thought of that, she managed to give me this." Rolling up his left sleeve, Daine put a hand to her mouth to stifle a cry of half-laughter, half-worry at the long, thin scar that ran from his elbow to wrist. Eventually, the laughter won out.

Numair glared at her mischievously. "Enjoying my pain, magelet?"

"No," she said, still trying to smother a fit of giggles. "No, I'm just laughing because it's so _you_. To try and spar against the Lioness. Because you've _read_ about swordplay, haven't you?" She ran her fingers over the scar, feeling the unusual coolness against Numair's warm skin, just as the mage quickly pulled his arm away and pushed down his sleeve. Bewildered, Daine stared at him.

"Of course," he said hurriedly. "But, like anything you read, it looks a lot easier than it actually is. That is one of the first lessons you learn - and yet are never taught – when you are studying at the University." He moved over to their bags, keeping his back turned to Daine as he spoke. "You might want to change out of that cloak now. It's getting a little worn, isn't it?"

"Yes," she said, coming up beside him and trying to look up at his face. He was determinedly not facing her, apparently gazing at the rising sun. She turned back to their bags, extracting a set of breeches, shirt, and undergarments.

"Ready?" asked Numair after a short moment.

"I'm decent," she said, holding out Numair's cloak as he turned around.

"Knowing you, we may need this again, whatever condition it's in," said Numair dryly, shoving the ruined cloak into a bag. Tugging his long nose, he stared at their campsite, then back up at the sun. Apparently coming to a decision, he flicked his arm and a few streams of sparkling black fire rolled up the bedrolls, cleared away the fire pit, cleaned the dishes, and fit everything neatly into the two bags. Daine frowned at him.

"You're supposed to save your magic for important things, aren't you?"

"This _is_ important," he said, pointing at the sun. "We need to proceed quickly, or the sun will rise too high and we won't be able to make any progress."

"I think you were just showing off," Daine muttered, picking up one of the bags and slinging it over her shoulder. "Are you going to spell these again?"

"No, _that_ would be showing off, magelet. Because I know you're plenty strong enough to carry one on your own, and, of course, nothing is too large for yours truly."

"See?" Daine accused, smiling again. "You're a Player at heart, master mage!"

He smiled back at her while picking up the other bag, the larger one. No matter how much Daine protested, he always carried the heaviest of their supplies, and eventually she just gave up. "Maybe I am," the man conceded.

"Don't worry," Daine assured him, "I'd still love you even if you were one of them annoying Players."

Numair's mouth fell open slightly, and he stared at her without saying a word. Daine frowned back, confused.

"What?"

Numair shook his head quickly, breaking eye contact. "Nothing. Let's get moving, shall we?" He took off at a brisk walk, and Daine followed along behind him, deciding to put off her questions. Numair could be fair odd at times. She'd gotten used to it.

The days blended seamlessly into one another as they walked, camped, and tried to think of a way back to Tortall. Endless stretches of hot sand extended in every direction – never varying in the slightest, remaining the broad, deadly desert that became more dangerous with every passing day.

Numair noticed Daine growing increasingly anxious as they moved farther and farther into the Carthaki wasteland. On their third day on the move, the girl hurried over to him, grabbing his arm firmly. Numair, instantly worried, glanced down at her. "Daine? Is something wrong?"

She shook her head, looking resolutely at the ground, but she didn't let go of Numair's arm. "It's just so quiet here," she murmured, hardly audible. "The People don't come this far out. I talked to sparrows before, but even they've had to leave."

Numair took her hand, lifting it off his wrist and giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. "It must be strange, to not hear any of the animals, isn't it?"

She nodded sadly. "Talk to me," she said suddenly. "I don't care what about, but just talk. I like hearing your voice."

Something like joy and pride shot through Numair. He forcibly ignored it, instead smiling at the young wildmage. "All right," he gave in. "What would you like to hear?"

"Anything."

"That's helpful," said Numair dryly, making Daine laugh a little. "Myths, legends, true stories, lessons?"

She paused, apparently thinking. "Tell me stories of Tortall, before I came here," she said at last. "All I ever heard in Galla was that Tortall had a female Champion - the Lioness - and that she was ten feet tall and killed trolls every day."

Numair laughed, trying to imagine Alanna significantly taller than he himself was. Already intimidating despite her small stature, a giant-sized Alanna would surely be an extremely formidable figure.

"Well, there is the tale of the Dominion Jewel. Have you heard that one?"

She shook her head, looking at him expectantly. "Tell me it."

Nodding, Numair gathered all his memories of the stories he had heard in Tortall. He'd still been in Carthak when it had happened, but he could remember clearly all that Alanna had told him – the tale was fascinating.

"It was the second year after she'd gotten her shield and revealed that she was a woman," he started, "and she knew, in order for the country to accept her, she'd have to do something no one else had before."

"And being a woman warrior didn't count," interrupted Daine.

"No, my dear, it did not. Jon, as her friend and her king, was perfectly happy to accept her as a knight. The majority of the populace, however? They were not quite so open-minded."

Numair lost track of the time as he spoke. He tried to lose himself in the story, as he often did, but he found that whenever Daine gasped, or squeezed his hand, he nearly lost his train of thought. Just as the sun reached its peak in the clear sky – the heat was nearly unbearable, but he somehow found a way to put the discomfort out of his mind - Numair finished the story. "Alanna killed Duke Roger – again – and the tremors stopped. But the power in the Jewel that Jon had to use had to come from somewhere, and the next year, there was a terrible famine. But, from then on, Tortall has always had the Jewel, as a symbol of power only to be used in the most desperate situations."

Looking at Daine again, Numair saw that she was staring at him, entranced. She shook her head. "You're good at telling stories," she told him.

"Player at heart, remember?" he said, pointing at his chest. She laughed and used her free hand to wipe her brow. No longer so distracted, Numair realized how much the heat was reaching him, as well. They had to stop now, or risk heat fever, dehydration, and all kinds of dangers. They were already running low on water; it was not an endless commodity.

"Let's rest over there," Numair suggested, pointing to a dune that would provide a sliver of shade. Daine nodded and set her bag down, flopping onto the ground in exhaustion. Numair settled down a little more calmly beside her, but he felt just as exhausted - he wished that he could just sleep. But, earlier in their journey, he had insisted that during their afternoon rest, Daine would sleep first while Numair kept watch, and then they would switch.

Generally, though, Numair found that he could never really fall asleep. He kept sneaking glances at Daine, both to make sure she was safe and just to see her. Now he watched her again, breathing peacefully, with her curly hair fanning out over the sandy ground. She shifted, moving her head so it was laying against his thigh. Numair froze. Cautiously, he reached out a hand and brushed a few strands of hair away from her eyes.

She stirred, and Numair quickly pulled his hand back, but her eyes remained closed.

What was he _thinking_? She was his student, and nothing more. But if that were true, why did he always smile when he was around her? Why did he feel like he'd to anything to make her happy? He looked away from her and back at the sun, which was slowly sinking towards the west. Inside, he knew the answer, but it was too hard to admit it to himself. He didn't _want_ to be in love with her, so therefore, it followed logically that he couldn't be. It just wasn't possible.

_Lately she hasn't really been just a student, _a sly voice inside his head pointed out. _She's been a friend. A companion._ He remembered how, at the large feast that was held when they arrived in Carthak, Daine had remembered that he couldn't eat such intricate foods after long travels. She had sent a dog to help clear his plate, so he wouldn't appear rude in front of Varice and the emperor. She always knew what he needed – and, on the other end, Numair knew there were times when he could just _tell_ what was bothering Daine. That kind of insight into another person, when one could just inherently _know_ what was wrong, was almost always used to describe those in love. George and Alanna were like that.

_It's just because we've been together for so long,_ he told himself wearily. _That's all it is. And she's becoming a beautiful woman; I'm not immune to that. _

Looking at the sun again, he guessed that it was probably time for him to wake Daine and let her take watch. But he didn't want to move; it was so peaceful with her resting against him. He knew Daine better than that, though – she would be furious if he tried to take her watch as well as his own. Sighing, he placed at hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Daine," he murmured. "Time to switch watch."

Groaning, she pulled herself into a sitting position, and Numair was grateful that she didn't seem to notice how she had moved in her sleep. "It's not like there's anything out here that could attack us," she muttered, rubbing her eyes. "And I can't do much without a bow anyway."

"Of course you can," grinned Numair, leaning back to make it look like he would soon be falling asleep. "You can give yourself the claws of a lion. If that does not constitute itself as deadly, then I don't know what does."

She smiled, sending a warm tingle through Numair's body. Quickly he shut his eyes. "Wake me - "

" - if anything happens," finished Daine. "I know."

Numair just smiled, not bothering to respond. Cracking open one eye, he watched Daine settle down comfortably in the sand with her back to him. Her thick, curly hair was still sandy and mussed, but he knew that would never bother her. She was never one for appearances, unlike Varice, who he could tell had gone over-the-top to make sure she was looking her best when he had arrived. Daine, however, had never tried to be anything she wasn't.

_Here I go again,_ he thought bitterly to himself. _Thinking about her. _Closing his eyes and forcing himself to keep them shut, he recited ancient texts that he had memorized over and over again in his head. It worked, and soon enough he found himself falling asleep, as much as we wanted to stay awake if only to keep Daine safe. _She can look after herself,_ he thought, before letting the weariness of three days' traveling overtake him.

* * *

Ozorne threw his hands in the air in frustration, emerald glimmers sparking at his fingertips. "Take me to them, you damned Hag!" he shouted, spit flying from his lips. The Graveyard Hag looked idly at her filthy fingernails. A bit of the girl's dried blood still lingered under the tips.

"You could ask nicely," she said, not looking at him. "I don't like threats."

"But," growled the emperor, seemingly on his last nerve, "you are under my control, so what you desire does not matter."

The Hag still ignored him, barely containing a snort at the thought. She scratched at one of the silver shackles, wishing she could blow it to pieces, just to see the look on his face. A jovial voice, audible only to her, sounded from somewhere beside her ear.

"Dearest sister. I have upheld my end of the bargain. You are now in my debt."

The Hag flicked her fingers, creating a thick, enveloping mist to shield her conversation from Ozorne. "Debt acknowledged," she muttered. "You won't regret it. My aid can be useful."

"It had better be," said the voice. "This wasn't a very exciting job. It was too human. My next plan will be far better."

"Of course it will," said the Hag irritably. Despite the fact that he was extremely easy to dislike, it was undeniable that he had his uses. "I'm busy. Go."

"Fine," he said. "I'll just get in touch with you later, shall I?"

The Hag grumbled as the voice vanished, as did her opaque mist. It dissipated to reveal a very red-faced Ozorne, despite all the paints he had caked upon his face. Somehow, despite his separation from the palace, he still had the time and resources to make himself look like an idiot.

"I did not tell you to do that!" he screeched.

"No, you didn't," agreed the Hag. Changing tactics in the hope that he'd forget, she said quickly, "But now I know where the girl and the mage are. Do you want to know?"

"Tell me," he ordered, his eyes shining madly. The Hag glared at him. Being forced to help someone was one thing, but pretending to be under this man's control was torture. Sighing, she flicked her arm again to conjure an image, hoping it would all be worth this humiliation in the end.


	11. Terror

Oops, I lied. The plot intensity will be the next next chapter, I swear - I've already written it. But, something equally important (in my opinion) happens in this chapter (plus one really funny line I couldn't resist writing), so for all you nearly-fluff fans... Read on and enjoy!

**Irish Ninja Chick - **Oho, you're psychic! Haha, thanks, I'm glad you think it's getting better, I was afraid it was getting worse!

**Fyliwion - **thanks! And I guess you're right, fillers are necessary, but too many can slow the story. I guess I was just worried that I had too many fillers, but my "ultimate plot" (haha, that sounds ominous) was demanding a lot of setting-up.

**Starling Rising - **ROFL. I love the way you phrased that. Thanks, I've always enjoyed Tammy's characters because they're so easy to play with. You're right on your next point too - at least with me, I tend to read good books in like one or two sittings. I get into them and can't get out. Once I was grounded because I spent the entire day in my room reading _Eclipse _by Stephanie Meyer. Psh at lawyers - this is why we have fanfic!

**Jess - **thank you! I'm trying to keep it all balanced. Hm, I reread that line, it is a little confusing, I meant the "he" to be in reference to Numair. I edited that, adding "himself" in the sentence to make it clearer, thanks for pointing that out!

**EDITED**

* * *

"Surely we're far enough away now," said Daine suddenly, her voice calling out sharply from somewhere behind Numair. The girl stopped dead in her tracks, and Numair turned, worried. Behind them, he could see the pale imprints of their tracks weaving through the sand, wind blowing and covering them in seconds. The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, but they had always pressed on a little further than this during their other evenings of travel.

"I'd feel better if we kept moving - "

"We've been moving for five days straight," retorted Daine, dropping her pack in the shadow of a huge, dusty dune. "Please. I can't go any farther."

Something in her voice made Numair pause. Her eyes were filled with a type of fear he had never seen before. But the landscape around them was just as it had been for their entire trip – dry, empty, and hot. Nothing had changed. "Of course," he assured her, retracing his steps until he was beside her. Concerned, he placed a hand to her forehead, but she just brushed it away impatiently.

"I'm not sick," she said. "I just - don't want to move anymore." She dropped her gaze, and Numair tried not to press. Daine had her reasons, and she might feel better after a rest – they had been going hard nearly all day.

"I'll cook tonight, then," stated Numair, opening his pack. "And you will rest." To his surprise, Daine didn't protest, but sat down immediately on the sand, staring vacantly in front of her. Something was definitely wrong.

"Daine," began Numair, but she interrupted him.

"I'm _fine_. Sorry," she said, looking up at him. "Just tired. I'll clean."

Numair scrutinized her closely. It wasn't like her to act like this. "Daine," Numair said seriously, crouching in front of her. "Something's bothering you. What is it?"

She shut her eyes tightly and turned her face to the ground. "I'm not sure - but I'll be fine. Just keep cooking."

"I haven't started," said Numair, standing and looking at her critically. "Daine, I don't like it when you act odd like this. Tell me what's wrong."

Daine opened her eyes and glared crossly at him. "If I told you it was a feminine problem, would you shut up?"

Immediately Numair felt his cheeks go bright red. For all that the majority of his friends were women, he _hated _this subject. Some women he knew - like Alanna - made it _very_ clear when it was the time of the month when they shouldn't be bothered. Daine, thankfully, had only brought it up maybe once in all the time she had been with Numair. "I – er - " he stuttered, suddenly extremely self-conscious about all his inquiring.

"Don't," said Daine, smiling at last, though Numair could tell it was strained. "It's not. I probably should've kept pretending it was, though."

"You are a malicious woman, Daine," he tried to say sternly, but he was inwardly relieved. "Do you enjoy making me so embarrassed that I want to vanish?"

Still wearing a forced smile, she replied, "Yes. You should be grateful I don't pull that one more."

"It would lose its potency if you did," grumbled Numair, still slightly red-faced. He started digging out a pit for the fire. There wasn't ever any wood in the desert for a fire-starter, so Numair conjured wood with his Gift and started a small cluster of flames, sizzling through the dry tinder. Placing a dish over it, he turned back to face Daine, ready to start questioning her again now that he knew it most definitely wasn't a "feminine problem." But before he even opened his mouth, Daine spoke.

"We need to find a way home."

For a moment, Numair hesitated, wondering whether to keep asking her what was bothering her, or to sit and really think about their problem. Eventually, the challenging glare Daine was directing at him won him over. He sat beside her, watching their cooking supper. "Yes. We do."

"Any ideas?" she insisted. "We're either staying here or going back. We're not going to find anything out here, and there's no _way_ Ozorne could track us this far."

"You'd be surprised," muttered Numair, knowing the vast multitude of tracking spells that existed, even though he had used as much of his Gift as he dared to shield their path. "The only way back to Tortall is by boat. The Imperial Navy will be in the Inland Sea until Ozorne is dethroned, or we're dead."

"I like the first option better," said Daine bluntly. "Dethrone an emperor. That doesn't sound too hard. I destroyed his palace, after all, and you vaporized him in a duel."

Numair gave a half-hearted laugh, wishing he could share Daine's apparent confidence. "But we don't know where he is, and we have nowhere to start looking."

"So we let him come to us." Daine closed her eyes again and grimaced. "Take off the defensive spells after we wake up tomorrow. We'll be rested and ready."

"_What?_"

She didn't respond, just sat with her eyes shut tightly. Bewildered, Numair stared at her.

"Daine, if Ozorne knew where we were while we couldn't locate him, he would gain the element of surprise. Magical power won't make any difference to that."

"But we'll never find him otherwise," Daine persisted stubbornly. Numair sighed; part of him knew she was right, and he also knew she would never back down until he agreed. She was strong in that respect.

"Fine," he gave in. "I don't like it. But I'll do it."

"Thank you," she murmured. "Check the food."

Jumping, Numair hurried back to the fire and pulled the soup off the flames. The bits of meat were slightly overcooked and the noodles a tad chewy, but it was traveling food. It was never good. He poured out one bowl for himself and one for Daine, who took hers with a short nod of thanks and began to eat silently. Numair followed her example; she clearly did not want to be questioned any more, though the mage thought his heart might burst with worry if he didn't find out a way to help her.

Still without speaking, Daine finished her soup at about the same time as Numair did, and she took his bowl to clean it. Numair didn't try to object, though he wished he could give her more time to rest. As she pulled out her bedroll, the girl determinedly kept her gaze averted from Numair's. Frustrated, Numair set out his own bedroll on the other side of the dying fire, wondering why she was so distant. She had never acted like this before. Over the course of their travels, he had grown accustomed to her firmly cheerful, though not overly idealistic, disposition. It made his heart ache to see her so distressed, especially since she didn't seem willing to trust him with the problem.

"Good night, magelet," Numair said, the lingering silence gnawing at him.

"Night," she replied softly. Numair noticed her curl tightly in her bedroll. 

_Frightened_, his mind told him, recalling books that analyzed the positions in which people sleep. _Vulnerable._ He watched as she twitched slightly, and a soft whisper that he couldn't quite make out carried over the wind.Something was definitely wrong.

Daine was usually relaxed in sleep, with a furry or feathered creature at her side. He knew only too well that she usually slept on her side, with her face turned towards him; he had been guilty of staying up later than he should have just to see her calm face. Now, however, she was curled into a tight ball with her back to him.

An exhausted body begged for sleep, but Numair's mind refused to allow him to rest when Daine was so frightened. Aching to help her, Numair started to get out of his warm bedroll, but he soon stopped himself. Daine wouldn't appreciate his "foolish overprotectiveness," as she called it, though _he_ thought he was just looking out for her. All the same, it was a part of his nature that was nearly impossible to force back.

Gradually her whispers got louder, and Numair's internal battle raged on. _Should I help her, and risk her thinking that I believe she can't take care of herself? Or leave her be, and let her fight alone? She's so stubborn, she would hate to admit something like a nightmare really frightened her. _

But Numair's decision was suddenly made for him. Daine let out a strangled sort of moan and scrambled out of her bedroll, staring blankly at the embers in the fire. The small bit of light cast her pale features into shadow, but Numair could see tears glistening on her cheeks. A cold desert breeze blew tangled hair across her shivering shoulders.

"Daine!" Numair called, dashing over to her. He knelt and grasped her shoulders, trying to see her face, but as soon as he touched her, she gasped and slid herself close to him.

Curling into his lap, Daine gripped his light shirt fiercely as if she could never let it go. Terrified, Numair wrapped his arms tightly around her, murmuring comforting words. "Daine, it's alright, it – it was just a nightmare - "

Numair's heart pounded wildly out of control, fear and confusion muddling his thoughts. Daine took a few deep, shuddering breaths, and Numair stopped talking, wondering if she was going to say something. He could feel silent tears falling against his chest where her face lay.

"No," she murmured. "Not a nightmare."

"What's wrong? Daine, what's - ?"

"Alone," she said, so quietly that Numair barely heard. "I've never – been alone like that before."

"Daine?" Numair said, quietly. Daine had to have noticed his erratically pounding heart. Her damp cheek was right over it. _Calm down, _he told himself. _Calm!_

"The People are gone. Not even sparrows can make it this far. I've always had someone – Cloud – Kitten - "

"Shh, Daine," Numair soothed, threading a gentle hand through her hair. He had no idea what else he could do. His conscience screamed - this was completely wrong, completely inappropriate; he shouldn't be holding her so tightly.

But she was scared. He knew now why she had been acting so oddly before – the amount of wild magic she contained made the People a part of her, and suddenly being cut off from them would be like losing part of her spirit. She needed him; she needed human contact. Gently, Numair kissed her soft curls, still murmuring.

He didn't know how much time had passed when her breathing finally began to slow back down to a normal rate. At last Daine turned her face up, a few tears still on her cheeks. Numair's hand moved of its own accord to lightly brush them away.

Stormy eyes shined intensely, full of both pain and something different – something unrecognizable. Numair pulled the young wildmage into a tight hug, and she rested her face on his shoulder.

"Sleep," whispered Numair. "You'll be alright. Remember, we have to be rested for tomorrow? If we meet Ozorne?"

Her nod was almost imperceptible against his shoulder, but she didn't speak and didn't move. Numair waited anxiously for her to slide out of his arms, but Daine stayed, her breathing already becoming slower and calmer.

_I can't stay like this_, Numair thought suddenly, feeling his body react to her prolonged touch. He tried to gently lower her back onto her bedroll, but as soon as he slid his arms from around her, she shook her head fiercely.

"No," she whispered, only half-conscious. "No. Stay with me."

"Daine, I – I can't - "

"Please. Don't – don't leave me." Her voice was so soft, so pleading, so vulnerable. She was trusting him – absolutely, implicitly.

Everything in Numair's mind seem to shut off without warning. He was defenseless.

"Of course, sweetling."

He couldn't refuse. Not when she was so scared.

Daine sighed in relief and closed her eyes. Shifting, Numair cradled her carefully in his arms so her head was resting comfortably by his shoulder. She turned into him, warm lips brushing the skin near his collarbone.

Numair breathed in sharply. He had to keep control of himself. If he didn't, he might just lose his mind completely. Having her pressed so close to him sent every nerve on fire, and his feelings were magnified a hundredfold by the fact that she _needed_ him there, _needed_ him close to her.

For he couldn't deny it to himself any longer. All the times he had spent with his student had led to something more than a friendship – so much more. Every time she'd looked at him with a shining smile, he'd noticed something. Every time she'd laughed and grabbed his hand, he'd notice something. Sighing, Numair finally allowed himself to deliberately think what his unconscious mind had known for weeks.

He was in love with Daine.

And it could only lead to problems. He was too old for her; fourteen years was much too large a gap, wasn't it? She would think he was disgusting, lecherous, if he told her how he felt. Everyone they knew would be horrified. Numair knew only too well that his reputation preceded him when it came to women; they would all think he was treating Daine just like another one-night whim. How could he explain to them that Daine was _different_? She wasn't an empty-headed and helpless noblewoman who was waiting for some handsome man to ask for her hand like sculptor's clay waiting to be crafted into any shape that the scultpor desired.

She was _Daine._ She was strong, assertive, powerful. No one else mattered like she did. She was like air to him; without her, he couldn't live. Even if she would never love him, even if he had to watch her fall for a young, gallant knight, he could never separate himself from her. She would always be his magelet.

_Not mine,_ he told himself sternly. _She's no one's anything. Especially not mine._

But he was the only one that ever called her _magelet,_ wasn't he? People had heard him use the nickname, and yet no one had never attempted to call Daine that. It was something that was only between them. So, perhaps she was his magelet. But she could be nothing else.

His exhausted body eventually overtook his restless mind. Lying back on Daine's bedroll, still holding her carefully in his arms, he stared up at the brilliant stars for a moment. They glittered like specks of diamond scattered across dark, soft cloth, as black as the ocean, illuminating the endless sea of sand. Wind echoed through empty air. Without thinking, Numair slid an arm around Daine's slender waist leaned his head against hers.

The stars just shimmered on above it all, not even a sliver of a moon to drown the sky in brightness.

But even stars and a cloudless sky did not compare to Daine's face, innocent and trusting in sleep. Her cheeks were pink, hair falling across them, and a few strands fluttered with each one of her gentle breaths.

Closing his eyes, Numair tightened his arms around his young student, who shifted a little at the change in position. Her face settled over his shoulder and her arm slid over his chest, coming to rest curled right above his heart. Numair placed his free hand carefully over Daine's tiny fist, feeling a slow, steady pulse under her wrist. It corresponded with the beat of her heart.

Daine let out a little, contented sigh, still asleep, and her slender legs pressed closely against his own. Numair let out a long, resigned breath. She _really_ knew how to test his resolve, even when she wasn't conscious.

He would have to be very careful from now on.


	12. Faces

Yes! Finally! Plot action! I promised it, and so here it is! And I'm being mean. A double cliffy. Hah. Lots of reviews last chap, thank you guys! I'm also enabling anonymous reviews, too, so yeah. xP

**Adagio to a Wolf - **thank you! Even being a girl, I find Numair's POV so much easier/more fun to write from. He's just so hopeless! Maybe it's cause we all wish we could find a guy as wonderfully sweet as him, so on my part, I make up for it by writing about him.

**Horseluvr13 - **thank you! It means a lot! Oh, and btw, I was looking at your list of favorite authors, and one of the other authors you favorite'd is one of my best friends from school! Small world, huh?

**angelic-ninja - **Emotion is good. Sometimes it's easy, and sometimes it's ridiculously hard to make it realistic!

**Jess - **Ooh, fluffy then ;) I guess it was, except silly Daine doesn't realize it. Yet. -wink-

**Fyliwion -** thank you!! Not as slow as Tammy's, though - my Numair must feel lucky. He'll only have to endure like a few weeks of pain, rather than months.

**Starling Rising - **I've always thought that Numair did see it, like you said, he's too smart not too! But, he didn't want to see it, so he ignored it, and it would take a lot to admit it to himself. Rereading RotG, I was sorta like, "Hm, a sudden-realization thing doesn't seem very Numair..." so that's why I did it my way. Oh, and that line is probably my favorite line in the story! I laughed out loud when writing it.

**Irish Ninja Chick - **It was a bit of stretch with her magic, but hey, it got him to admit he loved her. And she'll feel better, I promise. Thanks, and yeah, everyone seems to think the majority of their own work sucks, at least I'm not alone!

**EDITED**

* * *

"They're getting closer!" yelled Alanna over the ramparts. "Archers, get ready!"

The handpicked Riders that Onua and Thayet had sent her rapidly fit arrows to strings with well-practiced ease. The Legann archers were slightly slower, but their stance and aim was strong. Three hurroks dipped too low, and met their end with arrows in their throats. Bodies fell with a sickening crash onto the rocks outside the castle. Alanna grimaced.

"Notch!" she commanded.

The archers who had already fired had arrows on their strings again. Another stream of hurroks poured in, this time with Stormwings and flying monkeys, the latter of which began to breath a dense, yellow fog over the wall. Cursing and coughing, Alanna lit her hand with a spark of purple fire, trying to dispel the mist.

A shrieking male Stormwing was heading straight for her, and Alanna barely managed to jump out of the way and draw her sword. The Stormwing wheeled around deftly, screeching in bloodlust and spiraling down for another strike. Alanna dipped and thrusted, driving her blade deep into his bare chest. Blood spattered all over her arm. Disgusted, she yanked her sword back, and the Stormwing fell to the ground, dead.

"Serves you right," she muttered, pushing out more magic and clearing the fog enough to see the ramparts. Two of her archers were dead. But many more immortals lay around them, shot down with arrows or blasts of mage fire. The last two hurroks retreated.

"Lady Knight!" called the head of the castle archers, Adémar, a dark-skinned, thickset man. "To the east!"

Whipping around, Alanna saw that the three Copper Isles ships were readying an enormous catapult. Mages lifted huge rocks from out of the ocean for projectiles. "East!" she ordered the archers. "Aim for the mages!"

Adémar relayed her orders, and as one, he and seven of the remaining archers fired towards the ship. Only one arrow met its mark, and the targeted mage crumbled, grasping his arm. "Just injured," said Adémar.

"It'll keep him out of action for a while," said Alanna. "Fire again!"

But the mages had learned from their injured comrade and had moved to the back of the ship where the arrows couldn't reach. "Brace yourself," warned Alanna, anticipating. "They're going to operate it by magic!" Sure enough, lights glittered around the catapult, and Legann's walls shook as huge rocks pummeled the base.

"Mithros, why are the Copper Isles even here?" exclaimed Adémar, standing up. The blast had knocked nearly everyone except Alanna to the ground.

"No idea," said Alanna harshly, "but I'm going to send them back where they came from. They are _really_ starting to irritate me."

Adémar looked at her, clearly in awe of her intense demeanor. "Aim at anyone possible!" he called at last. "Anyone on the ships! Don't shoot unless you're sure! Fire at will!"

Alanna tried sending balls of her own purple fire at the ships, but the mages there were too powerful, and their combined Gifts blocked any magical attacks. Swearing profusely, Alanna turned to watch the battle raging in the northern fields as knights were caught in ground combat with killer unicorns and centaurs. The immortals had come out of nowhere, driving the forces at Port Legann into a desperate struggle to stay alive.

Even Thayet stood at the ramparts, firing arrow after arrow at any immortal she could reach. Grasping her ember, Alanna saw that blue fire surrounded the queen, and when a rock dropped from somewhere above the woman's head, it deflected off the magical shield. Clearly, Jon was taking no chances with his wife's safety.

Jon himself had to be forcibly restrained by the burly cook so he wouldn't rush out into battle himself. Even his royal orders wouldn't make the stubborn servant let him pass. All anyone would let him do is fire balls of blue flames at whatever immortal got past the castle archers. Alanna felt couldn't imagine how that would feel; he had trained as a knight, and yet no one would allow him into battle.

On the opposite wall, Lord Imrah stood with Tkaa and Kitten. The basilisk directed the dragonet, who screeched one high-pitched note, and two approaching monkeys turned to stone, fell, and shattered on the ground. Even without her ma and da to encourage her, Kitten was working as hard as any soldier to drive away the attackers. Imrah patted the dragon's head, then froze, apparently catching sight of something in the distance. He whipped around, meeting Alanna's gaze, and signaled with wide arcs of his arms. _Two lone riders._

Bewildered, Alanna turned to Adémar. "Take full command!" The man nodded, and Alanna hurried down off the castle walls. Tkaa met her halfway across the court, where Jon was blasting down a stray hurrok.

"Two riders?" Alanna asked urgently. "From the north?"

"Yes," said Tkaa in his deep, calming voice. "Riding fast. One horse dark, the other dappled. The riders were cloaked and armed."

"We have bigger problems than two riders, Lioness," said Jon dryly. Alanna whipped around, glaring at him.

"From the north, Jon," she hissed. "They could be messengers from Caynn. Or Corus. Risking their lives to come here." Her voice lowered, barely daring to hope. "Or the Swoop."

Jon stared at her intently, his blue eyes blazing. "And they could be deadly mages."

Alanna knew he had a point, but she didn't want to admit it. She glared at him and didn't say a word.

"Ready yourself," Jon said at last, "and let them through the gates."

Alanna dashed to the wooden doors, which were barricaded shut to lessen the risk of immortals surging through. Seeing Imrah's signal out of the corner of her eye, she motioned to the gatekeepers to open the gates. Bracing herself, she filled one hand with a ball of purple fire and gripped her sword in the other. To her surprise, Jon moved up across from her, sword in hand. She was about to protest, but he cut her off before she could speak.

"I'm not helpless," he said, "and you're not invincible."

Alanna opened her mouth to reply, to insist that her king stay safe, but suddenly the doors flew open and the two riders dashed through, skidding to halt. Both riders were fully cloaked and large, like Tkaa had reported. Alanna whipped her sword up to one man's throat, while Jon did the same to the other. The man raised a hand and pulled off the hood of his cloak, and Alanna gasped.

"_George!_"

* * *

A cool morning breeze blew lightly across Daine's face, making her shiver the sudden chill. But there was something beside her – she couldn't tell what quite yet – but it was something big and warm. She snuggled in close to it, enjoying the soft touch.

Opening her eyes, she realized in mild surprise that the big warm thing was Numair, lying with one hand holding hers and the other around her waist. Her face was lying against his warm chest, and their bodies were pressed close under the blanket. Daine frowned, trying to remember how she had ended up falling asleep beside her teacher. She wasn't complaining, by any means, but she was confused.

Everything came back in a rush – the sudden emptiness in her soul when she couldn't sense any of the People. The night had closed in on her, threatening; she was alone. Daine could remember being terrified, to the point that she wanted to run away from everything, towards the People, the part of her that was suddenly missing.

But then Numair was there, holding her, and somehow his touch had filled the hole in her chest. She knew she should move – she could only imagine Numair's thoughts on this – but it was so comfortable. Daine ran her fingers lightly over a small scar on his collarbone. _I wonder how he got that,_ she thought idly. Pressing her palm flat against his chest, she felt his heart beating calmly and steadily under her hand.

With a tiny smile, the girl curled back under Numair's arm, knowing the peace could not last much longer. They had to be ready as soon as possible. Numair needed remove the protective spells around the camp, and then they could see if Ozorne would find them. All the same, Daine didn't want to get up.

The feeling of being empty lingered in her memory, and it scared her more than almost anything she had ever experienced. Numair's arms around her was her shelter. It was her safety. And it stirred something inside her that she couldn't be concerned with understanding.

But, at the moment, only one fear was prominent in her tired mind. What if, as soon as Numair let her go, all the emptiness came rushing back? Daine shivered, worried. Suddenly, Numair stirred, and her heart sank. He was waking up – he'd realize, he'd move, he'd leave.

"Daine?" the man mumbled, his eyes opening blearily.

"Mhmm," Daine murmured, rubbing her nose absently on his near his collarbone. His hand threaded tenderly through her messy hair.

"Daine," he said, his voice soft and gentle. But with an abrupt pause, his hand froze on her hair and he sat up quickly, causing Daine's head to fall painfully to the ground.

"Ow," grumbled Daine, rubbing her head and glaring at him from the ground. "What was that for?"

"Sorry," Numair said quickly. "I was just a bit – surprised, that's all."

"So was I," Daine admitted, grinning up at him. He ran a hand through his tangled hair, which hung loosely at his shoulders, and he tried to smile back, but it came out more like a strained grimace.

"We'd best get up," Numair said abruptly, rising and taking a few steps towards the embers of their fire. Daine took a deep breath when he was gone – she was bracing herself for the hole in her heart to open up again.

But she didn't feel that same physically painful blankness. There was only an odd sense of disappointment. Relieved that she wasn't falling apart again, she stood and followed Numair to their bags.

"Pack up manually today?" Daine asked when she was next to him, thinking it'd be best to conserve the mage's firepower.

"Yes," said Numair, not looking at her. But he raised his arm, and, with a flash of glittering black magic, he sent all their supplies neatly into the two bags. Confused, Daine frowned at him.

"Numair, did you even hear my question?"

"What?" he said, turning at last to look at her.

"I asked if we should pack up manually today, so you could save your strength, and you said yes, but you still used magic."

Numair frowned too. "Sorry. I'm a little distracted this morning, I suppose."

"I can tell," Daine said, smiling a little and leaning on his strong arm. She felt his tense muscles through the thin fabric of his shirt. "I don't like the idea of sitting like ducks and waiting for Ozorne to find us either. But we don't really have a choice, do we?"

"No," said Numair, still standing tense. "Are you ready for me to take down the spells?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," replied Daine. She stepped just a pace away from him while he worked his magic, a few barely visible shimmers floating in the air for split second. "That's it?" asked Daine, a little surprised.

"That is it," said Numair grimly, crossing his arms. "Now, we wait."

"Fun," said Daine, sitting down on the sand. Numair raised an eyebrow at her, acting like his usual self at last, but his eyes were still dark with concern. "No point being foot-sore when Ozorne comes along," she said. "I'm just as capable of shifting from a sitting position as a standing one, and you can cast spells just as easily too." She patted the ground beside her, wanting to be near Numair again. With a sigh, the lanky mage sat, but he settled with his back to her.

"Keeping watch both directions," he explained, predicting her question with flawless accuracy.

Smiling, Daine leaned against his back. For a few minutes they sat in nervous anticipation, Daine feeling very exposed without the knowledge of Numair's powerful cloaking spells keeping her safe. But his presence, at least, made her feel better than any spell he could devise.

"We're going to fall asleep if he doesn't turn up soon," said Daine dryly after the sweltering sun had crawled a significant ways into the sky. "What if he's not even after us?"

"He is," said Numair quietly. "Don't ask me how, but I can tell."

"Well, if you're sure."

"This was your idea in the first place, you know."

"I know, but - "

Out of nowhere, a blinding flash of bright light filled the air, making spots glimmer in Daine's whited-out vision. Stumbling to her feet, the young wildmage reached out and found Numair's hand, grasping it tightly to make sure he was still beside her. His hand tightened briefly around hers, an odd sort of energy pouring into her.

Two figures, hardly discernible from the whiteness around them, were moving towards the two mages. Heart pounding, Daine blinked as the light began to fade and stood close to Numair. She tried to focus on the approaching shapes. There was still so many spots in her vision; she squinted, and Numair suddenly stepped out in front of her.

Looking out from around Numair's protective form, her mind didn't immediately comprehend what she saw. Half of it was what she had expected. And the other half was completely beyond belief. Glancing up, she could see Numair staring at the two figures with the same open-mouthed expression Daine knew she herself must be wearing, too.

This wasn't something that was possible_._ It wasn't that it _shouldn't_ be happening; it was that it _couldn't_ be happening.

"Surprised to see me, dearie?"


	13. Reunions

Double cliffy resolved... slightly.

**Irish Ninja Chick** - Who knows, maybe the emperor will turn out to be a bigger problem than the goddess. -wink-

**ShadowofMidnight and Fyliwion** - thank you! Here's the chapter, at last!

**escape5** - Daine is a little slower to catch on than Numair, simply because I imagine her a little more childish than some people do, I suppose, at least when it comes to love. She's had a hard life, but since she never knew her da, she's had hardly any exposure to what an intimate relationship is like. But she will realize it, I promise, it won't be a sudden "omg-i'm-in-love" deal. That never made sense to me. And thank you!

**Jess** - thank you! Have... er... fun at your grandparents'? -twitches- Lol, you'll probably be back before I've gotten more than a chapter up anyway, don't worry about it!

**Starling Rising** - I'm not that cruel, don't worry! But be warned, next chap (and this one I guess) do get angsty. Haha, I liked writing that line - poor Numair, Daine's not helping his situation at all, is she?

**EDITED**

* * *

Alanna nearly dropped her sword in the swirl of emotions that overtook her, and only years of practice and suspicion kept her hand firmly on the hilt. Jon's horseman had thrown off his hood as well, and Alanna recognized Bertran, one of their most trusted commanders at the Swoop, a stocky man with a long nose, heavy-set brows, and eyes that danced with adrenaline. He was breathing hard, as was the Lioness's exhausted husband.

"I've come this far," panted George with a strained grin. "An' my lass welcomes me with a sword to my throat?"

Only George would joke at a time like this. His weary eyes lit up as Alanna let her sword fall. "I'm proud of you, lass," he assured her.

"Oh, George," she said breathlessly, wishing she could leap into his arms. Such an act, however, did not seem fitting under the circumstances. "The – the children - "

George kicked his horse into a trot so they could get away from the main gates, while Bertran did the same; Jon had lowered his blade when Alanna did. "How in the name of Mithros did you get here, George?" the king asked, amazed.

"A few little Roguish tricks my king probably wouldn' like to know about," George replied mysteriously, "but my friend would. I'll tell you later. There's more important things to deal with now." Shrugging off his long cloak, it slithered to the ground to reveal the reason for his huge stature - Alan and Alianne were gripping their da tightly around the middle, and they looked absolutely terrified.

"Ma!" Alan exclaimed, tumbling backwards off the horse in his excitement. Jon rushed forward and caught the small child before he hit the ground, but Alan was already stumbling out of the king's grip and into Alanna's arms. Little Alianne scrambled off no more gracefully; Jon had to catch her too as she fell.

"Alan, Alianne," whispered Alanna, kneeling and letting the tiny twins topple into her arms. "Oh, Goddess, children – Thom - "

"Here, Ma," her older child said from somewhere above her. Stubborn tears leaked from Alanna's eyes as Thom too rushed into her grip.

"Oh, my children," she said, looking carefully at each of them, her heart nearly exploding with a mixture of happiness and worry. "You're so tired. Why - ?"

"I had to bring them," said George, grasping her shoulder comfortingly.

"We need to get you to the infirmary," said Alanna, rising with Alan on her hip and Thom and Alianne both clinging to her hand. "You – you're silly children, coming all this way - "

"Ittas an aventure, Ma!" squealed Alan, suddenly cheerful and happy. "Da said ittas an aventure!"

Alanna laughed weakly, her heart warmed by his innocent, lisped speech again. "It was just that, wasn't it? An _adventure_."

"Aventure," agreed little Aly.

"Ma, we're not tired," said Thom as they emerged in the infirmary, a small building already crowded with injured soldiers. A healer appeared, gasping at the sight of the Lioness's little ones, and steered them into a separate, curtained room.

"You look dead on your feet," countered Alanna sternly, dropping the twins into one bed and putting Thom on the next one. "I need to know you're safe."

"Ma," protested Thom, but Alanna could already see his eyelids drooping.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, squeezing her son's hand. "I'll talk to you soon, all right?"

"'Kay," he sighed, closing his eyes.

"Goodnight, darling," she murmured, smiling comfortingly and mussing his hair. "I love you."

"Love you too, Ma."

Turning to the twins, Alanna found them already curled close beside to each other and fast asleep. They clutched each other's tiny hands; they were never far apart from each other. Twins were like that when they were young. She kissed each of them tenderly on their identical foreheads, and then nodded to the watching healer.

"I'll keep them safe," the dark-haired woman assured the Lioness. Her face was clear and truthful.

"Come on," George murmured in Alanna's ear as she lingered at the door of the infirmary, aching to be with her children. "They're fine, I swear." He kissed her gently, and Alanna pulled him close, needing his support.

"I've needed you here," she murmured, feeling the tears coming again. Angrily, she raised a hand and brushed them away.

"An' so I came," George said, kissing her nose. "We've got work to do, lass."

Alanna nodded grimly and forced herself to pull away from him, but she didn't let go of his familiar, scarred hand. Emerging back into the shielded corner of the courtyard, they found Jon talking urgently with Bertran, occasionally stepping back to shoot down another hurrok. As Alanna and George approached, the king nodded at Bertran, who took it as a cue of some sort, grabbed the horses' reins, and hurried over to the stables.

"George," asked Jon cautiously when the man had left, "why is it that you are here? How doesn't matter. With the children? Is the Swoop - "

"As far as I know, the Swoop is stable," said George, though grimly. "But I couldn' leave the little ones there without me to protect them. I trust _others_ to protect them, but it's the little ones themselves I don' trust. They don' always obey the orders of anyone but me an' Alanna." He paused, squeezing Alanna's hand reassuringly. "We met Gary in Corus - your children are fine, Jon. They miss the both of you terribly, but know you're doing your duty. Little Kalasin especially was calm. Only ten, she is, and she knows how the world works."

Jon let out a sigh of relief. Alanna glanced over at him, then back at George. "As far as you know?"

Shifting, George sighed. "We were sent a message that I was needed in Corus. So I set off, taking Bertran, Keina, an' the children, only to find an ambush when we were nearly there. It had been a false message. We had to fight our way through mix of soldiers an' immortals. Keina was killed."

Alanna closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Keina was one of the best healers at the Swoop, and George had trained her in the use of daggers and unarmed combat himself. _This is all war brings,_ thought Alanna bitterly, sending a quick prayer to the Goddess for Keina.

"Then we heard about the attack here. I had to come, an' I couldn' bear to leave the children at the palace." George met Alanna's eyes squarely. "I'm sorry, Alanna. I put them in danger. I couldn' leave them."

"I understand," she said, squeezing his hand. "I'm glad you brought them. I – I needed to see them."

George embraced her again, his arms strong and warm, but they broke apart roughly as Jon cursed and threw another bolt of blue fire at a Stormwing. "War stops for no one," the king said bitterly.

"Too true," agreed George, shaking his head. His hazel eyes glinted as he surveyed the scene in front of them. Alanna followed his gaze.

Fighters hustled across the courtyard, trying to stay as close to the towering, stony walls as possible. Adémar led Legann's archers steadily, firing at both immortals and ships, and Tkaa was again directing Kitten to dispense approaching wyverns and various other immortals. Imrah had moved to stand beside Thayet, watching her back and handing her another quiver of deadly arrows. Onua's fierce war cry rang out from across the wall, and Alanna's heart ached with worry. Five Rider groups, two companies of the Own, and several other soldiers were out there. Alanna wasn't new to war. She knew what would happen.

Not everyone would come back.

* * *

The Carthaki emperor stood before Numair, a cruel smile on his painted face. Elegant robes flowed in the gentle wind, glittering under bright sunlight. He looked like the perfect model of a rich ruler; the desert clearly didn't affect his composure in any way. Jewels sparkled harshly all over his body, the emeralds and rubies peppered over his ears and fingers. His eyes were dark with something inexpressible.

But it wasn't the emperor that had spoken. Behind him stood someone else, an old woman with jagged teeth and cunning eyes.

It was the Graveyard Hag. Bound in sparkling silver shackles, she leered viciously at Daine, pointing a filthy finger over her shoulder. "Your charming _friend_ decided to pay me a visit. And now look."

"No," Numair muttered. It couldn't be possible - this sight went against everything he had ever learned. The Great Gods were a fundamental power of world, just like the essence of the Gift, or even nature itself. Every mage knew that. "That's not possible. You can't control a _god_."

The Graveyard Hag opened her mouth to respond, but Ozorne cut her off with a glare. "_You_ can't. But I?" He walked slowly forward, the Hag following sluggishly behind him, as if being dragged by an invisible chain. Narrowing his eyes, Ozorne flicked his gaze from Numair to Daine, watching both for any sort of reaction. "I can. And additionally – I have unfinished business with our Veralidaine here, don't I?"

Daine growled, but Numair stepped protectively in front of her at once. Her small hand tightened around his, both comforting him and making his heart pound with worry. She could defend herself, he knew, but claws were not the best form of defense against a powerful mage and a goddess.

"Don't take another step," growled Numair. Ten years' worth of hatred coursed through his veins.

"I have the power of a god with me," said Ozorne, slowly and clearly. "And yet, you still hope to oppose me."

"I've beaten you once. I can do it again. You're a fool, Ozorne! She's not really under your control. Nothing can overpower the Great Gods."

"I can!" screeched Ozorne, the tone of his voice bordering on hysteria. "She led me to you! She follows my instructions! She is under my control!"

But behind the emperor, Numair could see the Hag suppress a snort of laughter. The Hag _couldn't _be under the emperor's control, so why would she be pretending that she was? What did she have to gain?

"Show them!" Ozorne hissed. "My slave! I give you an order!"

"Whatever you ask, majesty," said the Hag sardonically.

Ozorne appeared not to notice her tone. "Bind the girl," he said, thrusting a finger at Daine. "And her magic."

"Gladly," said the Hag, glaring at Daine. Before Daine could have had any time to react, silvery threads shot around her body, slamming her hard into the dune behind her.

"Daine!" Numair shouted, trying to reach her. No matter what happened to him, he _had_ to keep her safe.

But the Hag threw the glimmering threads at him too, and he fell hard onto the ground, landing painfully on his shoulder. It was god-magic; Numair wasn't sure if he could break free from it with his Gift. It was too powerful for simple spells, that was for sure. But his thoughts were dominated by fear: could the goddess really stop Daine's magic?

Ozorne's cruel smile reappeared as he towered over Numair. "See?" he said, his tone triumphant. "I _do_ have the control. I have the power."

"You're nothing but a arrogant cheat," hissed Numair at the emperor's feet, furious. "You always have been. Always you were second-best, so you schemed your way to the top - "

Ozorne's smile vanished, to be replaced by a contorted grimace. Livid, he drew back a gold-gilded foot and kicked Numair hard, directly in the cheek. Numair gasped; the metal on the emperor's shoes cut into his skin and bruised his cheekbone. Panting, he forced his thoughts away from the pain and focused on his former friend.

"Don't touch him!" Numair heard Daine yell. Her voice was strained and anguished, and Numair's heart ached. "Let him go!"

Ozorne ignored her. He filled a hand with emerald fire and put his foot back over Numair's stinging cheek. "I could kill you now," he said quietly, pressing Numair's face into the dirt. Numair struggled, spitting sand out of his mouth. "I could get my slave do it. But you know me. I prefer to do things myself, don't I? She's just here in case things get nasty, I think. I can handle you myself."

His foot lashed out at Numair's face again, and the renewed slash and pressure on the mage's cheek sent shocks radiating throughout his entire body a second time. But Numair refused to give in – the emperor wanted to hear Numair's scream, if only because the sound would torture Daine. Numair gritted his teeth, resisting, determined not to do anything that would hurt the young wildmage.

"What should I do first? Kill you? Make your beloved watch you die?"

"Say what you like about me," spat Numair coldly, attempting to cut himself off from emotion. He knew he wouldn't be able to think rationally if he truly comprehended Ozorne's threats, not now he'd admitted he was in love with Daine. "But keep your filthy lies off of her."

Ozorne's eyes glinted. "Don't try to tell me you haven't coerced her into bed with you yet," he hissed. "She's a pretty one, isn't she? You must have tricked her, seduced her, didn't you? Or did you use magic? Just one night, a temporary plaything, before you lost yourself in some _book_?"

"Numair would _never_ do that!" screeched Daine, but Numair barely heard her. Blood pounded in his ears.

He was angrier than he had ever been in his life. His last thread of control snapped.

Numair forced his Gift out of every particle of body, tearing through the goddess's bonds and blasting Ozorne through the air. Sand flew up in a huge whirlwind, obscuring his vision, but the Hag's raspy cackles were still carried to his ears by the sudden wind.

Scrambling to his feet, Numair swayed and was blinded by the stinging sand. Suddenly a coil of emerald fire shot out from an indistinguishable spot in front of him and twined itself around his neck, pushing him back several paces and making his breath come in strained gasps.

At last, the sand settled back onto the ground, revealing Ozorne on his feet with his Gift pouring from his hands into the chain around Numair's neck. The Hag stood calmly behind him, her arms crossed. Nothing else was visible.

_Amateur spell,_ thought Numair scathingly. _Any mage with an ounce of Gift could break this once they knew how!_ He kept his mind focused on pulling out his Gift, to wind it around the coils of green fire and separate them like untying a knot. It was a trick that weak mages used to overcome powerful spells; logic was more powerful than strength.

But his entire body went cold when he realized his had used up his entire Gift blasting out of the Graveyard Hag's bonds. Even his life-force was dwindling, leaving his body to run on pure adrenaline.

Looking at Ozorne, Numair saw the emperor smiling widely, pleased with himself. He'd planned this perfectl, and Numair had played right into his grasp. Ozorne knew his biggest weakness was Daine and her honor; nothing else would ever goad him into losing all control.

The emperor's magic magic tightened around Numair's throat, and Numair gasped as Daine let out a strangled sob.

He was trapped.


	14. Touch

Be warned, much angst in this LONG chapter. I was gonna pull another cliffy, but was feeling nice, so I didn't, but this chapter still leaves a few things unexplained. It'll clear up. Sorry if waits between chapters are longer from here out... I've developed an obsession with the TV show Bones.

**Fyliwion, Adagio To A Wolf, and horseluvr13 - **thank you! Muahaha, cliffies are so fun to write. But I'll try not to pull to many more.

**cutiebeaky - **That's okay, thanks for reviewing, but I hope you feel better soon! And don't kill yourself, this one's not a cliffy!

**Scales - **thank you! Numair's POV is my favorite to write, I think. But this one is in Daine's - she finds out something important. -wink-

**Starling Rising - **Cause Numair can be "fair foolish" at times, right? Overprotective of his magelet. It's so sweet!

**Irish Ninja Chick - **I hope it will continue to make sense, it's kinda getting crazy now! Be prepared for the angst.

**EDITED**

* * *

Tears of fury, hatred, and fear streamed freely from Daine's eyes. She didn't make any attempt to try and stop them. Never before had such strong loathing burned through her body; not even for the people who hunted only for sport, or for the men who had killed her family. Ozorne was crueler than them all – he was using _her_ to torture Numair. Guilt racked Daine's entire body, and yet, in a small part of her mind, she knew that that was part of Ozorne's plan too. He wanted her to feel like it was _her_ fault Numair had drained himself – if he wasn't so worried about her stupid honor, he wouldn't have done it, would he?

_And that's exactly what he wants you think,_ another part of Daine's mind retorted. _It's not your fault! It's Ozorne's!_

She had to do something. Numair was pale, gasping; Ozorne's spell tightened dangerously around his throat. The emperor's eyes burned with a type of bloodlust that was more than just a desire to kill. It was a desire to cause pain, especially to the man that had always been better than him.

"Stop!" Daine screamed, desperate. Numair's dark eyes flicked towards her, full of pain and fear and so many other things she couldn't name. She couldn't ever remember seeing Numair so scared before, not even during any of the near-death situations they'd been in already. He'd never looked like this, like he was helpless against his worst nightmares. Daine tore her eyes away from him, boiling with anger.

"_Let him go!_"

"Why would I do that?" responded Ozorne, his voice fervent and low. Behind him, the Graveyard Hag stood, watching the scene unfold with her wrinkled face completely unreadable.

Daine struggled once more against her bonds, to no avail. The magical ropes chafed against her skin. "It's – it's me you want, isn't it? I destroyed your palace. _I_ forced you away from your throne. It's _me_ who has the wild magic you need!"

Hardly sparing her a glance, Ozorne left his flaming eyes fixed upon Numair. "All the more reason," he said at last, "to make you suffer more by watching him die, is it not?"

Cold fear clamped over Daine's heart like an expertly woven knot. She froze, unable to think or feel anything except terror. _Numair. _

A voice sounded suddenly in her ears, raw and overpowering. It reminded her of strong claws scoring deep slashes into hard stone. _You'll have to do better than that, missy. Use _all_ the talents at your disposal._

It was the Hag. Staring at her, Daine saw the goddess's face still deliberately impassive. Not a flicker of feeling flashed across her features.

_Why are you helping me?_ thought Daine viciously, as if the Hag could hear her. But somehow, the goddess did, and her rich cackle reverberated in Daine's mind, even though the Hag's face stayed smooth. The words bounced around as if her head was some sort of echo-valley.

_Because I can. Because I think you have a chance. Because at this moment I hate him more than you._

_And that could change?_ responded Daine, not questioning the fact that she was having a mind-conversation with a goddess.

_Yes. It could._

Daine glared at her intensely for a moment, trying to detect something in the goddess's gaze. But the Hag was a gambler; she knew how to keep a perfectly straight face and expressionless eyes. There was nothing to be seen.

_I'll take your help while you're offering it, then, _decided Daine. _You've bound my magic. What else do I have?_

Now a faint spark of amusement glimmered in the Hag's beady eyes. A strand of the silvery magic slipped off of Daine's shoulder, bringing the edge of her loose shirt with it and revealing much more of her skin than Daine was accustomed to showing. The Hag grinned wickedly.

_Figure it out._

All at once, Daine was hit by a three completely conflicting emotions – disgust, fear, and hope. Her heart strained against its tight bonds. Could she possibly save Numair simply by _seducing_ Ozorne? Was that really her only option? It was worth a try, even though the mere thought made an intense revulsion bubble up in her throat, one that she had to work hard to force down.

"Ozorne!"

At her sudden shout, the emperor mage's gaze shifted, lingering hungrily on Daine's exposed chest and shoulder. Numair turned too, strokes of blood still weaving down his face. But his eyes remained locked with Daine's, and the worry she had seen before was suddenly intensified a hundredfold. Forcing herself to look away, Daine met Ozorne's shameless glare defiantly before the emperor spoke, his words coated with false sweetness.

"I could make a deal with you."

It was foul. It was foul, nauseating, vile, and revolting, but Daine's mouth moved of its own accord, her mind conscious only of Numair's safety. "Fine," she heard herself growl, as if it were another person speaking. "Just let him go."

Ozorne considered her. His glinting eyes narrowed dangerously. Breathing hard, Daine watched as the emperor thrust out his hands and broke the glowing chain of green magic, leaving radiant cords still clasped securely around Numair's neck. Now Ozorne turned and approached Daine slowly; he didn't make a single sudden move, but it was clear that his stillness was not out of fear or caution. With two fingers, he reached out and caressed the side of her cheek, as gentle as the kindest lover. Daine shivered in disgust, and, out of instinct, she jerked her head away from his touch. Ozorne grabbed her chin fiercely, forcing her head back to meet his eyes.

"Need I remind you," he said icily, all traces of tenderness gone. Gold-painted fingernails dug harshly into Daine's skin. "That _I_ am setting the terms here?"

"_No_!"

A strangled yell echoed from behind Ozorne, and Daine looked up to see Numair fighting all the harder against his bonds, even though he was completely drained of power. Farther behind him, the Hag watched mage intently with eyes narrowed in intense concentration. Grimacing, Daine tore her gaze from away from Numair and looked back at Ozorne, whose wicked smile had spread even wider. His face was barely an inch away from hers, held firmly in place by his harsh fingers.

"Would you like to know my terms?" the emperor said amiably. Daine shuddered as thick breath blew over her cheek. "I release him. And in exchange, you will return with me to the palace. You will make no attempt to escape. He will not come after you. Simple enough, is it not?"

"Yes," replied Daine, willing Numair to come to his senses and flee back to Tortall as soon as he was released. But she was also well aware of the fact that Numair would never leave her, no matter what the conditions were. He never worried about his own safety, only hers, but at the very least she could buy time for both of them. It was their only chance. "Let him go!"

"Are you worth it?" asked Ozorne, still keeping his face close. He took his free hand and slid it down Daine's side, brushing lightly against her chest and coming to rest on her hips. Horrified, Daine tried to twist her body out of his grasp, but Ozorne held her frozen in place, defenseless, and pushed her back against the dune. Smirking, the emperor mage glanced over his shoulder at Numair, whose expression was both tortured and furious. "Am I sure he won't try another rescue mission?"

Daine's heart pounded erratically against her chest, speeding up in a nervous tap-dance and then stopping abruptly with a terrified crash. It took all of her willpower to let the heat from Ozorne's body wash over her without putting forth any sort of resistance.

"Yes," Daine gasped, trying to keep her face composed, but she felt a tear slip down her cheek. She snapped her eyes closed, a steady mantra echoing through her mind - _my tears won't make Numair's task any easier._ Breathless, she forced herself to keep still as Ozorne's fingers smoothly traced her body and forced her hips down harder against his. She couldn't suppress a gasp of repulsion when his hand crept under the Hag's bonds and her shirt, trailing like a faint ghost over the skin on her stomach.

"Take your hands off of her," spat Numair, all in one quick breath. Ozorne's head whipped around, his eyes alight with cruel pleasure.

"We have an agreement, Draper," replied the emperor. Still facing Numair, Ozorne took his hand from Daine's chin and slipped it behind her head, twisting his fingers in her wild hair. In a sudden movement he yanked her head backwards, forcing her body to arch, and Daine bit her lip so hard that it began to bleed.

_Don't torture Numair any more than he is already. _Daine couldn't see the mage anymore, but in the bottom range of her vision, the Graveyard Hag was piercing her with a demanding glare, one eyebrow raised in a challenge. Instantly Daine understood the Hag's message, without needing the goddess to speak in her mind – distract Ozorne. Take his focus off Numair. Feeling a slight shift in the bonds around her body, Daine tested the wellspring of copper fire inside her and found it unrestricted at last. The goddess had freed her magic, but her body was still bound – if the Hag freed her completely, Ozorne would obviously know that he needed to defend himself. But now, Daine had the element of surprise.

Taking a deep breath, unable to believe what she was about to do, Daine pulled at her magic and created a long, strong tail, hidden behind her body. In a quick movement, she swung it around Ozorne's head and turned his face away from Numair. Before the emperor had time to react and wonder how her magic had suddenly returned, Daine pulled his face to hers and grabbed his lips in a fierce kiss.

It took all of her strength to not immediately recoil when Ozorne responded. Daine nearly retched at the taste of the emperor's painted mouth, and she shuddered as Ozorne's hands explored her body feverishly. Cold hands over down her sides, her legs, her back. She could feel Ozorne's grin as he pushed up her shirt and the Hag's bonds, revealing her entire stomach and chest. Numair's shout rang only faintly in her ears.

_I can't take this anymore!_ Daine thought, appalled. She tore her head away from Ozorne, sickened, and did whatever she could to shove him away. Ozorne glared at her with a kind of fierce lust. With a sudden spurt of energy, Daine spat on his face struggled even harder against his tightening hold, a desperate need to be free washing over her.

Out of nowhere, a huge bang sounded, resonating with a crash that struck some chord deep in Daine's memory. Sparkling black light surrounded her, warm and comforting, despite the pulsing sense of power it contained. _Numair's magic. _The hands and bonds around her flew off and she fell to the ground, blinded and disoriented. She couldn't feel anything through the cloud of sand and darkness, couldn't see anything, couldn't hear -

"Numair!" Daine yelled, staggering to her feet. "_Numair!_"

"Daine, I'm here, are you all right?"

Daine's knees went weak with relief. She almost collapsed again; only the new strength in his voice kept her on her feet. Strong hands gripped her shoulders, powerful but gentle, so different from the emperor's grasping fingers.

The magic disappeared, and Daine saw Numair standing in front of her, somehow freed from Ozorne's magic and looking restored and healthy, though still terrified. "Oh, gods, Numair," said Daine, her mind refusing to process what had just happened. She stumbled forward slightly, but Numair didn't lift her up into a bone-breaking hug like he usually did after their near-death encounters. Instead, he quickly stepped in front of her, more black magic appearing like fire on his hands.

"Tell me what you're thinking right now, Ozorne," said Numair, his voice low and dangerous, so different that it was barely recognizable. Something more than cold fury radiated from him. "Do you think you have power? Do you think you can overwhelm me?"

Daine was glad that Numair wasn't looking at her. She couldn't imagine seeing the anger in his eyes that she heard in his voice. It was one of the few times she could understand what his status as one of the most powerful mages in the world truly meant.

Covered in sand and sprawled on the ground, Ozorne went pale and didn't move. His gaze, suddenly filled with fear, flicked from Numair to the Graveyard Hag. "Slave – I command you! Bind him!"

The Hag met his gaze squarely and raised her bony arms. The engraved silver shackles around her wrists and ankles exploded, sending silvers of metal flying through the air all around them. "Sorry, dearie," said the Hag sweetly. "I like breaking the rules. Don't you?"

For a moment, Ozorne just gaped. Numair rushed forward and pulled him up by his gold necklaces, shoving him roughly against the dune that had so recently been Daine's prison. Lips curling, Ozorne's fear seemed to dissapate into reckless anger, and green fire burst into life at his fingertips. The flames licked at Numair's sides, pulsing and growing.

But Numair didn't seem to notice. He laughed softly, shaking his head, but Daine could tell that his eyes never left Ozorne. "You're a fool. You could never take me in a duel."

"You never fought me," spat Ozorne. "You never had the power or the abilities."

No one moved for a split second. Then Ozorne growled and cast out his hand, a jet of magic exploding from his fingertips for fly straight towards Daine.

In a flash of Numair's magic, Ozorne's spell disappeared and black fire spilled over his body. The emperor crumpled to the ground, dead.

Daine gasped, unable to tear her gaze away from Numair, standing frozen for what seemed like an agonizingly long moment over Ozorne's still body. At last, he whipped and rushed to her, not stopping until he was just a few inches away from her.

"Daine – Daine, are you all right?"

"I – I'm fine," she stuttered, looking up. His eyes were filled with worry and pain; he'd killed again. It didn't matter that it was Ozorne – Daine knew Numair too well. He hated to kill, in war or not. But whenever it came to protecting her, he did what he had to – wasn't this the second time he'd taken the life of someone who was trying to hurt her?

Numair always cared so much for her.

She couldn't stand seeing him in such distress, wondering if she was scared or on guard. Daine threw her arms around Numair's neck, standing on tiptoe and hugging him tightly. She felt Numair's warm arms envelop her; he whispered comforting words as Daine's knees gave way at last. He fell to the ground with her, still holding her and rubbing her shoulders.

"Gods," Numair breathed, his voice shaky. "You, magelet – you have no idea what you do to me sometimes."

Laughing weakly, Daine curled herself close to him, her heart expanding with emotion. "You give me my fair share of heart attacks too, master mage."

His arms tightened around her. Without warning, a new thought fluttered lightly into Daine's tired mind.

_Is this love?_

As soon as she had the idea, she glanced up at his face, her nose bumping against his. His eyes gleamed with powerful emotion, and the cuts on his dark cheek were still bleeding and fresh. _I should move,_ Daine's logical mind repeated, over and over again. _I can't be in love with him. He'd never want me._

She laid her head against his chest, breaking eye contact, and she felt his chin rest over her head. His heart was beating fast under her cheek, powerful and alive, and it was so gods-cursed comfortable. Daine couldn't bring herself to pull away, no matter how much she knew she should. But Numair wasn't moving either, though, was he?

_We're alone and I'm terrified. Of course he wouldn't move._

"I'm sorry, Daine," he murmured. "I shouldn't have – I played right into Ozorne's grasp. I'm so sorry."

"Don't say that," Daine said fiercely, pulling back so she could see his face better. "I should be apologizing to you. You saved my life, Numair – again. I'm surprised you didn't turn him into another tree. "

"He didn't _deserve_ to be a tree."

Daine smiled. "How did you do that, anyway? Get your Gift back so fast?"

"That would be _my_ doing."

Daine jumped; she had completely forgotten about the Hag's presence. Numair's strong arms tightened around her again.

"You?" said Daine incredulously, turning her head so she could look at the goddess. "You? Why?"

"I told you," said the Hag casually. "I play by my own rules. You had a chance, but only with help from your mage here - so I helped him. And I like the tall men, remember?" She paused for a moment, considering, as Daine raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Well. And my dearest friend the Great Mother probably would have been furious if I allowed Ozorne to do what he was planning."

Daine could feel Numair wince at the thought, and so this time Daine tightened her arms around his neck. "I'm okay," she said soothingly. And she was; in his arms nothing else seemed to matter.

The Hag scrutinized them closely for a moment. "Well, dearies," she said eventually. "I'll take care of this. You can go home, and I have to call off a deal and get punished by the great Mithros."

She looked down at Ozorne's body and flicked her fingers, causing a column of white light to appear over the emperor's form. When it faded, the body was gone, not a single jewel remaining on the bleached sand. The Graveyard Hag turned back to Numair and Daine.

"Beware," she said gravely. "Ozorne told me that he had planned a 'present' for the Tortallans, and I've done my fair share of interfering in mortal affairs already. And to you, girl, I still don't like you, you know. But I won't kill you."

"Thank you, I suppose," said Daine, managing a half-smile.

"Close your eyes," advised Numair suddenly, as the Hag started to shine with white light. "You can't look at a god's true form."

"She probably could," came a resonant voice from the air around them, sounding like the Hag's. "She's half-god, after all."

"My da!" Daine shouted, remembering. "My da! Who's my da?"

But the Hag was gone, leaving Daine growling with frustration.

"We'll figure it out," assured Numair, standing and lifting Daine with him. He placed both hands on her shoulders and hesitated. "Daine … are you sure you're all right?"

This time Daine knew he wasn't asking about her physical well-being, even though one of his hands moved to gently rub the tender red marks on her chin.

"I'm fine," she promised, brushing his hand away lightly. "What about you?" She reached up to the bleeding cuts on Numair's face, her heart aching. Numair felt his own cheek, grimacing as he pulled his hand away and looked at the blood on his fingers.

"Doesn't matter," he said carelessly, pulling her into another hug. "I'm just glad you're safe."

Daine smiled slightly, her mind still not processing what had just happened. "Thank you," she murmured. Numair put a hand on her shoulder.

"For what?"

"For saving me, dolt," said Daine, smiling unconsciously. Looking up at him, Daine saw Numair's face break into a smile too, and though it was strained, it filled her with a tingling sense of joy.

The mage didn't speak for a moment, then he titled his head and focused on something slightly behind Daine, the ghost of laughter sparkling in his dark eyes. Daine turned, but didn't see anything. She frowned.

"What?"

Now he smiled as she turned back to face him, very confused. Laughing, Numair shook his head and pointed. "Magelet, you still have a tail."

Daine turned. Sure enough, her furry tail was still protruding from her backside, long and furry. With a grin, she pulled at her wild magic and made it disappear, glancing up at her amused teacher. "Thanks."

"It was nothing."

Shifting her eyes to the sky, Daine noticed the sun just clearing the midday mark, shining hot and bright against the dry sand. But even so, she was still grateful when Numair slung his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, rubbing her arm warmly.

"It's about time we made our way home," he said tiredly. "Does that sound like a good plan?"

"The best one we've had this entire trip," muttered Daine. Numair laughed. Daine looked up at him, and suddenly, she knew she'd been right.

She was in love with him. The feeling coursing through her was new, unfamiliar – but it couldn't be anything else.

_I'm just being silly,_ she tried to tell herself, even though she knew she was lying. Squinting at the horizon, Daine imagined that she could still see the vast ocean, calm and glimmering with its seemingly never-ending waves.

_No use in overreacting. I'll just ignore it and it'll go away._

Sighing, Daine knew that she didn't really believe her own words. But she also knew she couldn't tell him, and she couldn't start acting all strange around him. Their friendship was too important to put in danger by foolish one-sided feelings.

She didn't notice Numair watching her, worrying and thinking the exact same things as she was.


	15. Arrival

Sorry this one took so long! Only a week, not too bad, right... Anyway, filler-ish and long, but we've just had a lot of action and the story's not over yet. A little cliffy. But enjoy!

**cutie-beaky -** Haha, yeah, they're both so silly with their "unrequited " love. -cough- Thank you!

**ayameurahara13 - **The Hag is still pretty pissed at Daine... she's only willing to go so far to save her. And she did promise she'd call of that deal she made. And nope, still going!

**Fyliwion -** This one isn't very angsty (just fluffy), but I promise there will be plenty more angst, this time with all characters involved. Poor Numy!

**Irish Ninja Chick -** thank you! I hope it doesn't disappoint!

**Scales -** I know, I hate him a lot... I had to show his true evilness, lol, cause even though he was a gross Stormwing and all violent in RotG, he never really tortured anyone... and now he got his chance to torture both Numair and Daine at the same time and get himself killed for it. Thank you!

**Starling Rising -** It's always like that with them, isn't it? They'll always believe the other can never love them, but little do they know... I don't know, I wouldn't call being almost raped easy, but I see your point. I couldn't think of what else to do with him though, so he just had to get out of the way. Evil man.

** Jess - **Welcome back! Hope this one didn't take too awfully long, and thank you!

**EDITED**

* * *

Numair leaned against the railing of the ship, a magnificent vessel provided by the newly instated Emperor of Carthak, Kaddar. Pure white sails billowed in the wind. A vast expanse of water stretched out endlessly in front of the powerful craft, the retreating ships of Carthak's Imperial Navy tiny, dark spots against the blood-red glimmer cast by a setting sun. All together, it made for a very beautiful view, even without the promising sight of Tortall emerging in the distance yet.

It felt strange to be heading home; even though they had only been away a few weeks, the past few days with Daine had seemed like months of journeying. Glancing over at his student, Numair found her leaning almost completely over the edge of the ship, speaking quietly with dolphins as seawater splashed her face and a certain, familiar marmoset scampered up her arm. Shaking his head, Numair hurried over to her and pulled her away from the railing by her shoulders.

"You are going to tumble head-first into the vicious depths of the ocean and give me a fatal heart attack," explained Numair dryly as Daine frowned at his sudden interference.

"I would just shift into a dolphin and swim by the boat. And then into a bird and then I'd fly back up here."

"Just - don't lean too far over, all right?"

"Fine," muttered Daine, who then proceeded to settle herself in a position identical to Numair's – crossed arms resting lightly on the ship's rail. Zekoi chittered keenly while Daine grinned. "Happy?"

"Yes," said Numair, unable to resist smiling back. For a moment he stared at her - then realized what he was doing, and quickly looked away.

The last time they had been on a ship together, when they were coming to Carthak, was the first time he had really noticed how beautiful she had become. Looking back, Numair guessed that might have been when he fell in love. Now, every day he had to be cautious; both not to lose control and to still act normally, like nothing had changed. It was one of the hardest things he had ever endured, second only to their recent venture into the desert and all that resulted from it.

Numair pushed back the sudden memories, refusing to acknowledge their presence for as long as possible. He'd been surprised, though, at how well Daine recovered: after the first day, when she had been mostly silent, it was as if it had never happened. Numair's heart swelled with pride for her.

She had been hurt, both emotionally and physically, but she'd healed remarkably fast. And when they had reached the capitol city of Carthak, found Kaddar, and informed him that Ozorne was dead, Daine lost no time in pressing the new emperor to free slaves, make better living arrangements for the animals, and track down her marmoset, Zek, who had been living with the Banjiku. She had been the one to make sure everything in Carthak was in order before they left for home when Numair had been far too preoccupied with her well-being to think about anything else.

Now the young wildmage was conversing with the dolphins silently, so Numair couldn't even hear half of the conversation. Like usual, his curiosity sparked, so he tapped her lightly on the shoulder. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing a two-legger would really be interested in," said Daine at first, but then she laughed at Numair's raised eyebrow. "Well, fine. We're talking about how there's been a little less food around than in other years, and that they like this ship a lot."

"They like the ship?"

"Look," Daine said, grabbing his wrist and guiding it so that he was pointing at the massive prow of the boat. "They like swimming in the currents that the ship makes. They've been doing it almost the whole trip - haven't you noticed?"

"No, I haven't," said Numair, charmed by the sight. One of the dolphins leapt out of the water, flipping regally in the air before splashing back down and disappearing into the foam again. He realized belatedly that he'd been watching Daine almost the entire trip, leaving no time for any other sights. "Sometimes I think you teach me more than I teach you, magelet."

"Nonsense," retorted Daine. Zek poked his head out from under Daine's wind-blown brown curls and must have said something funny to Daine, for the wildmage snorted and tried to stifle the sound with her hand, her wild blue eyes alight with laughter.

"It's about me, isn't it?" asked Numair dryly. "What did he say?"

"He said that he just heard some of the animals call you 'stork-man.' Looks like those kind of things spread around the People just as fast as they do with two-leggers!" Daine laughed again, shaking her head. "I like being with the People again."

"Of course you do," said Numair, slinging a casual arm around her shoulders and smiling warmly. "I, on the other hand, am enjoying another splendid opportunity to waste countless hours wishing in vain to have your brand of magic rather than my own, just so that I can hear more than half of your conversations, the majority of which involve mocking me. Correct?"

"But if you had my magic, you wouldn't have been able to save me all those times," countered Daine, poking him in the chest. "You wouldn't have been able to turn Tristan into an apple tree or get rid of Ozorne."

Numair winced visibly. Daine noticed, and she pulled away from him, looking suddenly awkward. "Sorry," she continued hastily. "I – I know you don't like having to kill like that."

"No," Numair said, shaking his head. It was never the killing that had bothered him. After every fight and every battle he had nightmares, but at the moment, they were not his concern. "Ozorne was lifeless. Cold. Cruel. Enemy soldiers in battle are one thing; they have friends, families, people who depend on them. It's so much harder in war." Numair glanced back at the horizon, the sun almost completely set now, and the dolphins finishing their game in the water. "But Ozorne…."

"Ozorne's different," said Daine coldly.

Nodding, Numair turned to face her, searching her face for any flash of pain. But there was only worry – for him. She had been through so much, and yet she was thinking of him? His instinct to protect her kicked in, and Numair laid his hand over hers, searching for some way to provide comfort. Her eyes flashed, and she looked away.

"You shouldn't have to kill for me," murmured Daine sadly.

"Daine, if my choice is between your life and Ozorne's, I feel no shame in choosing my student over the mad emperor who tried to kill both of us at some point, not to mention all the other things he destroyed in his lifetime," Numair replied wryly. "I don't regret what I did. His magic would have killed you had I not intervened – I had no other options. But I think that I regret the fact that it had to be done in the first place."

"That's fair enough," Daine sighed. "I'm still sorry, though."

"Don't even think it," insisted Numair. Daine smiled gratefully up at him and squeezed his hand, sending a tingle through Numair's fingers.

Letting go of his hand, Daine shivered and rubbed her arms, staring blankly at a spot in the distance as night fell. "Did you talk to the Hag? When she gave you your power back?"

"Spoke with her? No, not at all, not verbally. And she didn't actually give me _my_ power back - she gave me some of hers. Just a spark, because mortal bodies can't handle god-magic. But I have so much magical power that it is intertwined with my corporeal self, so the Hag's magic didn't corrupt my Gift or tear apart my body. Her magic strengthened me enough to enable me to break free of Ozorne's bonds. He'd used a weak spell, you see."

Daine scrunched up her face, an expression she always wore when she was thinking hard about something. "I understood most of that," she said at last. "Corporeal?"

"Physical," explained Numair. "My body as in muscles and bones, rather than essence or spirit."

"Got it," said Daine, nodding. "See? You still teach me, all the time."

"I'm glad to know I'm still valued," yawned Numair, the gentle rocking of the ship and the warm, salty air making him sleepy. Daine leaned against his shoulder, her eyes closing. _Looks like I'm not the only one that's tired,_ thought Numair with a small smile.

"Should we send a speaking-spell to Alanna or the king, telling them we're on our way?"

Numair thought for a moment, surprised at himself for not considering that earlier; he'd had too much on his mind. "If there's trouble at home, we don't want to distract them - if Alanna were in the middle of a battle, a speaking-spell would not aid her. Shall we just surprise them when we arrive?"

"Sounds good to me," murmured Daine, who yawned as well.

"You had best get some rest, magelet," said Numair, glancing over at her. The last rays of sunlight glittered in her hair and cast part of her face into shadow. "We'll be there soon, and we still have Ozorne's 'surprise' to deal with."

"Yes," she replied, stretching. She hesitated, and just when Numair was about to ask what was wrong, the girl suddenly stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek softly.

"Goodnight, Numair."

Daine dropped her gaze and hurried away across the long deck towards her cabin. Numair stared after her, bewildered, one hand coming to rest on his cheek where her lips had touched him.

* * *

Onua slowed her pony down to a trot, patting the mare comfortingly on the shoulder. Signaling to the Riders behind her, the K'mir led her group into the nearby copse of trees, away from the sight of approaching immortals. Dark leaves and low branches cast dark, impenetrable shadows across the leaf-hidden ground, and although it was undoubtedly the safest place to hide from attack, Onua couldn't help but feel claustrophobic. Every twig that cracked under a hoof caused her to jump and whip around, bow at the ready, only to realize it was a completely innocuous noise. Cursing herself, Onua kept her gaze fixed on the small specks of light that glittered through the thick trees and were the only indicator of their goal – the ocean. From there, her group could be ready to defend against the Copper Islanders trying to come ashore, had a quick getaway route by means of the forest, and still be slightly protected from all the surrounding immortals.

"Ready?" whispered Onua, turning her head slightly so her second-in-command, Latisha, could catch her words. "The front three Riders and me will keep our bows aimed forward, towards the ships. Middle flank, upward at possible immortals. Rear, keep daggers ready and watch the sides."

Latisha, a stout woman with a dark face pockmarked by a childhood disease, nodded grimly and turned to pass the message. Her voice was light and melodic, contrasting with her strong build and fiery determination that Onua had always admired. The woman's words were swift, and when every Rider had received their orders, Latisha turned and nodded at Onua.

Setting her face forward, Onua took a deep, calming breath, and raised her hand sharply. The group charged out, arrows flying into the necks of hurroks and Stormwings patrolling overhead. Specks of blood spattered across the horses and the ground. Grimacing, Onua pulled back her own bow, ignoring the screams from her muscles, and fired at a dark-skinned male Stormwing, cutting off his screech of fury with one swift arrow. Finally remembering her task, Onua flicked her gaze to the horizon. Five ships were retreating into the distance.

Bewildered, Onua's jaw fell open, and beside her, Latisha wore the exact same expression. The horsemistress didn't even have to look to imagine the faces of each and every one of her Riders.

"They're _retreating_?" Latisha asked incredulously, adjusting her quiver more securely across her back. "Why in Mithros's name did they even come here in the first place, then?"

"They stay for a few weeks, bombarding and assaulting port Legann, yet not Caynn, and then they leave without any warning," said Onua skeptically. "And no messages. It doesn't add up."

"Does anything in war add up?" asked a Rider, a very dry note in his voice.

"It's supposed to," snapped Onua. "Commanders and rulers don't waste money and resources sending five ships to attack a peaceful country and then pull out without any warning."

Latisha raised her bow and fired off three arrows in quick succession, each one striking down a hurrok. "Maybe they've got answers at the castle," she said, wiping sweat off her dark, work-hardened brow.

"We're stationed here," said Onua, "but it was to keep a watch on the ships, mainly. We can get rid of the immortals from anywhere. We'll head back - "

A shriek interrupted her, and Onua swung her pony around and caught sight of a pair of flying monkeys, coming in at a low angle and pushing their disgusting yellow fog towards the group of Riders. Swiftly Onua called on her Gift, drawing a weak protection circle around her fighters, just barely enough to keep out the monkeys' magic. Raising her bow, she shot one immortal through the heart, and another arrow from a Rider behind her found its way into the second monkey's throat. Onua growled while notching another arrow to her bow.

"We'll head back to the castle, then, I suppose," she finished dourly, glancing around for more attackers.

"They just keep coming, don't they?" muttered Latisha, killing another Stormwing.

"Pull back," Onua ordered, pounding back through the trees. Leaves flashed by in a storm of colors, and in what seemed like moments, they were back beside the castle's gates. Onua dismounted at once, shouting. "Alanna! Jon!"

Alanna poked her head out of the infirmary, looking confused. Leading her pony across the courtyard and signaling for Latisha to direct the other Riders, Onua met the red-headed knight a little ways past the infirmary's door. Glancing inside, Onua could see George peering anxiously across a curtain, and she guessed that the former Rogue's two children were still resting inside.

Heart aching, Onua turned her face back to Alanna. "The Copper Isles' fleets are retreating," she stated bluntly.

"What?" came a voice from the infirmary door. Onua didn't have to look to know it was Thayet.

"Are you serious?" asked Alanna, incredulous.

"Swear by the Goddess. All five ships, heading back to where they came from."

"After three weeks?" said Thayet, joining the conversation. "What were they _thinking_? Wasting time, money, risking the anger of a powerful country - "

"That's what I said," Onua said gravely. "It doesn't make sense."

"I'm goin' to check," interrupted George, coming out of the infirmary and squeezing Alanna's shoulder gently. "There's somethin' suspicious about all this."

"Damn the Islanders," cursed Alanna, her violet eyes flaring. "Their leaders are crazy, I've heard. I'll stay with the kids."

She whipped around wordlessly, hurrying back in to her children. Grinning, Onua heard the little voice of Alianne call, "Who's crazy, ma?"

"Your father," replied the Lioness, and Onua had to suppress a snort as Alanna continued, effectively distracting the children. "Did I tell you about the time when he snuck into the royal palace?"

Onua saw a twinkle in George's eye as the man hurried off towards the eastern towers, but she could tell he was worried. Leaving Thayet with her pony, she half-jogged until she caught up with the baron's fast pace. "I'll come with you," she offered, more of a statement than a request.

"Thanks," replied George with a strained smile. They walked in silence up to the viewing point, staying low behind the rough walls to avoid being targeted by immortals, even though some mages Harailt employed from the City of the Gods had finally placed basic protection spells in layers over the entire castle. Once at the very top of the tower, George cursed as he caught sight of what Onua had just told him about – the tiny specks that were the Isles' ships. He muttered a string of fluent curses that Onua had only ever heard in the deepest, dirtiest parts of the Corus slums. "I should've known," he muttered, shaking his head.

"Known what?" asked Onua, squinting at the retreating ships. "Known why they were leaving?"

"You don' see it?" he asked, looking at her strangely.

"I see five ships heading back to the Copper Isles."

George put his hands to his head, rubbing his temples. "What I see is the face of a god I never wanted to hear about again," he muttered ominously. But before Onua could open her mouth to respond, a signal call blared from the southeast tower, resonating across the wall.

_Single ship. From the south. Flag of peace, Carthaki._ Onua understood the sentry's hand signals, but the message didn't make sense – why would a lone ship be coming from Carthak?

Kitten shrieked loudly in the distance, and Onua suddenly understood. _Daine and Numair._ Scrambling to find a spyglass to look at the distant ship, Onua ignored her racing heart and focused instead on expanding the stubborn spyglass.

George frowned at her. "What's the problem?"

"A ship from Carthak," responded Onua quickly, searching for the boat. Catching sight of it in the lens, she squinted hard, but still couldn't tell if any the shapes on board belonged to Daine or Numair. "I think – since there's only one ship – that it's Daine and Numair, but - "

George pointed, and Onua focused the spyglass again on the front of the ship, where two figures could be seen standing together. One was tall, and the other much smaller, but it was still impossible to tell exactly who they were. Discouraged, Onua was about to put down her spyglass and wait for the ship to come closer, when suddenly, the smaller shape leapt up and seemed to vanish into thin air, becoming just a tiny speck that fluttered lightly onto the other person's shoulder. Onua heard George snort loudly, and she lowered her spyglass, glancing at him. His eyes were twinkling again, and this time his entire face was lit up, the worry pushed away for another time.

"What?" Onua asked, remembering that with his magical Sight, he might be able to see the ship better than she could.

George smirked, shaking his head.

"That's _definitely_ Daine and Numair."


	16. Friends

Sorry these are taking a bit longer. Not one of my favorite chapters, but I'm trying my best! A little more filler/fluff. But action soon. They can't stay out of trouble.

**Horseluvr13, ShadowofMidnight, Evil Bunny of Death, .111, Irish Ninja Chick -** thank you guys! Here's the next chapter for all of you, and thanks to my new reviewers!

**cutie-beaky - **Okay, it wasn't little, but it wasn't like intense action-y suspense like the others, right? Don't feel bad, I've kinda betrayed my Tortall obsession too, with my newfound obsession with Bones - a Bones fic is my next project. But this is first, I'm determined to stick this out, so I hope you'll still read!

**Fyliwion - **Fluff makes me very happy. Thanks for the info on the length, it's hard to keep chapters under control sometimes!

**Starling Rising - **thank you! Haha, if only we all could take credit for Tammy's brilliance at nicknames like that. Stork-man. -snorts-

**Jess - **thank you! Ew, evil school, I wish you luck with that. Stay sane!

**EDITED**

* * *

Daine bounced happily from foot to foot, eager to get back on land and see Kitten, Cloud, Onua, and all of her other two-legger and People friends. She could tell that Numair wanted to get off the ship too by his constant shifting and tapping and the palpable air of impatience around him. Not only were all their friends waiting, Daine knew that Numair hated long travels, though he didn't get quite as seasick as Alanna did. Glancing over at the tall mage, Daine saw him staring at the castle in the same way she was - both eager and worried. A small purple ball of mage-fire glittered by his ear, and Daine hurried over, realizing that Alanna must be sending a speaking-spell.

"Numair? Daine? Is it really you?"

"None other," responded Numair, with a slight smile as Daine approached. He was about to open his mouth to say something else, but Alanna's voice interrupted him, bombarding the mage with questions.

"Are you alright? Where have you been? Why haven't you sent any messages? How did Kitten get here? Is Daine - "

"I'm here," Daine said, loudly, stopping the flow of questions. "We're fine, we've been in the desert, we didn't want to distract you if you were in a battle, and Kitten was transported there by an angry goddess."

"An angry _goddess_? What in the name of the Black God - "

"We will tell you everything later," said Numair firmly. "Please, Alanna, just be patient for a few more minutes? Even though we've been on this infernal ship for weeks, we will explain everything as soon as we are somewhere private, and I expect you to tell us everything that's happened here. You sound… tired." Numair paused, his voice concerned. "Is – is Kitten safe?"

"Tkaa has been taking care of her," replied Alanna, and now Daine too could detect the weariness in her voice. "She's fine. She's very anxious to see you both."

"Please don't allow any of your archers attack us as we're disembarking the ship," said Numair dryly, but the speaking spell had ended.

"We're home, Numair," Daine said excitedly, trying to hide her worry at what they could see of the castle. It was obvious the castle had been under siege. The strong walls had cracks and stains everywhere, and Daine could sense many immortals all around, more in one place than she had ever known. Closing her eyes and trying to block the immortals' pounding from her mind, she concentrated on hearing the People. Voices of birds reached her first as the animals flew out to meet her, and Daine cringed as a few sparrows were caught by lucky hurroks.

_No!_ _Go back, you'll be in danger if you come to see me. I will come to you, _insisted Daine, even using a touch of her will to send all the animals back to safe places. Rodents scampered away, and the birds and mammals, after some persuasion, followed. Suddenly, Daine ached to hear Cloud's voice, but the mare was in Corus; much too far away. Kitten was still too young for mind-speak. Zek nuzzled her face gently, trying to comfort her.

_Why are you so sad?_ the marmoset asked. _You will be with your friends very soon, and you still have your mate with you._

"My what?" Daine said out loud, distracted. Numair turned to look at her, puzzled, and Daine glared at Zek before continuing silently.

_What do you mean?_

Zek chirped and jumped from Daine's shoulder to Numair's, settling comfortably under the mage's ear and sneezing as a few strands of Numair's hair tickled the marmoset's sensitive nose. _You have your mate,_ he stated simply, and Daine blushed.

_He's not my mate,_ she clarified, trying to ignore the tingles creeping up her neck and Numair's bewildered expression. _I'm just worried about my friends, is all._

Zek didn't answer, just sneezed again and closed his eyes. Daine sighed, trying to force down the part of her that wished the marmoset's words were true.

It didn't help that at that precise moment, Numair lifted her chin with two fingers and looked into her eyes, his gaze dark and concerned. "Home, magelet. Are you ready?"

For a moment, Daine froze, searching for something in his eyes; something that she knew couldn't be there. Somehow, she saw a flash - but she blinked, and it was gone.

"Of course I'm ready," she said quickly, brushing away foolish thoughts.

Sailors shouted orders and readied anchors and sails as the ship got nearer and nearer to the Tortallan shoreline. With a loud splash, metal crashed into the ocean, anchors catching hold and making the ship sway. Sails were pulled in and men scampered around the deck, trying to keep everything running smooth and precise. It was a well-trained Carthaki crew that Kaddar had provided – Daine wanted to help, but she figured it was probably best if she and Numair simply stayed out of the way of those who knew what they doing. Shoreline rowboats were prepared and lowered.

The captain of the ship, a short, burly Carthaki man, bowed and pointed them to the first shore boat. Daine and Numair nodded and followed him on to the tiny craft. Four other sailors stepped on it with them, a small group of delegates ready to speak with the Tortallans.

Daine's mind was in a sort of standstill as the tiny rowboat peered through the waves. Numair seemed to notice, for he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Daine smiled gratefully up at him. He was nervous, too.

Since it had been buffeted in every direction by the pounding waves, it was some time before the tiny boat managed to slide onto a sandy hollow beneath rocky coastal cliffs. Daine's heart beat fast in her chest with both excitement and worry as they climbed out, Numair staying close by her side.

Tortall towered up before them, starting with crumbling cliffs that merged into sand at the bottom and grassland at the top. The tips of a familiar forest and castle were visible over the cliff's edge. Though there were still lush, green leaves on every tree, it was still easy to tell that there had been some commotion there. Everything looked roughened. Legann's gray, stony walls looked battered and weathered.

"We will accompany you to speak with the Tortallans before our departure," the caption said shortly with a small nod of acknowledgement to Numair.

"Of course," said Numair. The captain turned away from them, and they scrambled up a steep, rocky path to emerge onto rough soil.

Standing on the sparse grass, Daine breathed deeply, the air and landscape so familiar, yet so different. It was home – but it was home ravaged by war and death. Bodies of humans and immortals were everywhere, along with Stormwings, but there was also still a bright sun and the healthy plants and trees, vibrant with their green foliage. Daine looked at Numair, and she could tell that he was thinking the same things. Even the Carthaki men looked conflicted. Was it war or just skirmishes here?

Suddenly Daine caught sight of a group of Riders, headed by a strong, familiar shape on a mottled pony. Onua galloped towards them, bow in hand, her eyes wide.

"Daine! Numair!" Onua exclaimed, pulling her pony to halt and dismounting quickly. She rushed over to them, and, not waiting for a response, she threw her arms tightly around Daine in a fierce hug. Daine laughed, hugging her friend back; she hadn't realized just how much she'd missed the fiery horse-mistress, her first friend in Tortall. Not for the first time, Daine thanked all the gods she knew of that she had found not only more People friends in her new home, but also friends among two-leggers.

"Horse Lords, Daine, we were all so worried about you - "

"Onua," Daine said, shaking her head and smiling. "I'm not a baby, you know, there was no need to be so worried."

"Of course they worried, Daine, they care about you," said Numair, his eyes dancing.

Onua crossed her arms and pretended to glare at Numair, but the effect was ruined by her relieved smile. "We weren't just worried about Daine. You, Numair, can get into _plenty_ of trouble without all of us to look after you. Did he spend too much time with his nose in a book and end up getting you both caught?"

"No," Daine said indignantly in Numair's defense, but the mage just laughed and slung an arm around Onua's shoulders.

"It's a pleasure to see you too, horse-mistress," he said formally, concealing a grin.

"You know we missed you," replied Onua, hugging Numair briefly around the waist. "But, then again - I also know that you two can take care of each other." She winked at Daine, who mentally kicked herself as a flush crept up her cheeks.

"Let me help with the horses," Daine offered quickly. Onua laughed, shaking her haed, and handed Daine the reins of a small mare and Numair's horse, Spots. Spots nudged Daine's cheek with his nose, and Daine smiled, running a hand gently through his mane.

"It's too see you too," Daine giggled, as both horses nudged her and tickled her skin.

"Same as ever," Onua said with a grin. Nodding to the Carthaki captain, who was still standing there with his small party of men, the horse-mistress procured a rolled letter bound with a purple string from her breeches pocket. "Message from Their Majesties, the King and Queen of Tortall," she said. "I know I'm not a formal messenger. But we have to be prepared in times like these."

"I understand," the Carthaki captain said politely, taking the letter. "The Emperor Kaddar - "

"Emperor _Kaddar_?" interrupted a tall woman from behind Onua. Then she coughed and said hurriedly, "Er - sorry, sir."

"Yes, Emperor Kaddar," continued the captain. "I believe the Tortallan delegates will be able to tell you that part of the story. Emperor Kaddar would like their majesties to know that Carthak would prefer to remain uninvolved in the affairs of Tortall for the time being, for as much as our new emperor now holds ties to the country, there is too much at stake in our homeland to intervene in another country's affairs. I assure you that our debt to you will be repaid at another time."

"I understand," replied Onua. The captain bowed and saluted, then turned around and led his group back down the rocky path.

"Sudden departure," Onua muttered quietly, staring at the man's back with a raised eyebrow.

"Carthakis are not known for their sociability," said Numair dryly, patting Spots. The horse nickered, making Daine giggle.

"Have you missed him, Spots?" she asked aloud for Numair's benefit. "Surely you've enjoyed not having to deal with his dreadful riding abilities for a while?"

Numair huffed indignantly, while Spots replied, _No, I missed the stork-man. He always gave me extra carrots and apples._

Daine laughed and stroked Spots' nose gently, relaying his words to Numair, who scoffed and mounted as sloppily as he always did. Daine climbed onto her mare, a friendly pony who was delighted when Daine promised a few treats if they got back to the castle fast. Numair groaned, uncomfortable as ever, especially after so much time on a boat, and Daine ushered her mare into a gallop. It was almost endearing, the way Numair was still gawky and uncoordinated while riding, when he was always so graceful on his.

_Like he was teenager again,_ she thought with a smile, though it vanished quickly. _My age. He's an adult now. _I'm_ the silly young one._

Her gloomy thoughts were interrupted both by the mare's concern and by the sharp bang of Legann's doors opening; she had reached the castle much sooner than she had thought she would. She couldn't remember the blurred scenery of the short ride. Rushing inside the castle, Daine first saw the bustling courtyard – people and soldiers hurrying in ever direction, to the kitchen or infirmary on the sides, or the massive towers and turrets, or anywhere in between. But then she caught sight of faces - the familiar faces of her friends, eyes alight with hope, even though it was all too clear that they had gone through rough times. Even Thayet's perfect face was creased with worry lines, and the king looked more tired than Daine had ever seen him before. But Daine searched the scene until she found the one shape that she wanted to see more than any other.

"Kit!" Daine cried, as the little dragonet charged across the courtyard, whistled an earsplitting note, and barreled into Daine's outstretched arms. Daine's mare nickered and pranced, but Daine just held Kit close, listening to her excited, purr-like rumble. "Oh, Kit, I missed you, I'm so sorry we left you like that - "

Kitten chirped a fierce interruption and nuzzled Daine's palm, which Daine took as forgiveness for the fact that they had been away for so long. Daine laughed and saw Numair's hand suddenly appear in the edge of her vision, patting Kitten's head gently.

"You got here fast," Daine commented in surprise, turning to face her teacher.

"Tell Spots," the mage said, leaning over to kiss Kitten's forehead. The dragonet trilled happily, turning a deep, radiant blue, while Daine had to take deep, calming breath as Numair's body passed close to hers. Eventually the mage pulled back, flashing an amused smile. "He wouldn't listen to a thing I said. But, then again – that is probably a good thing, since you know the extent of my riding skills."

Thayet appeared by Daine's side, offering a hand to help the young wildmage down from the pony. Even though Daine was perfectly capable of getting off on her own, she shifted Kitten under one arm and accepted the queen's hand while dismounting. Thayet pulled her into a tight hug, making both Kit and Zek chirp indignantly and wriggle out of Daine's grip and onto the ground.

"Oh, Daine, I'm so glad you're back safe," said the queen, pulling back and squinting critically at Daine's face, keeping her hands firmly on the wildmage's shoulders. Even through her shirt, Daine could feel the fresh calluses and archer's burns on the queen's hands. Everyone had been working.

"Don't suffocate her," said Jonathon, grinning his signature smile. Daine smiled back at him, surprised to find that his charm seemed to have worn off a little, because she only felt a slight flush on the back her neck, nothing like the usual rush she had grown accustomed to.

The king reached out to shake her hand, but he was interrupted by Alanna, who pushed past him and lifted Daine into another crushing hug. "Thank the Goddess you're both back safe," said the Lioness at once. "Look at you - Numair, there's cuts all over your face - what happened?" Alanna drew back and put her hands on her hips, trying to look serious. Numair just laughed, and Daine wasn't sure if anyone else could hear the slightly bittersweet note in his warm voice.

"I didn't have you to watch my back, Lioness. Of course I got into trouble." Numair waved his wand airily, trying to brush the short knight away. Ignoring him, Alanna simply snorted and stood up as tall as she could to try and inspect the cuts that Ozorne's shoe had left on Numair's face. Numair titled his head sideways, barely hiding a smirk, and Daine grinned at the comical sight. Alanna grumbled, her displeasure evident, but she kissed Numair's cheek before lowering herself back onto the soles of her feet.

"I'm glad you're back," she stated simply, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Lass, you could at least wait 'till I'm not around before you start kissin' other men, couldn't you?" George's eyes twinkled as he gazed at his Lioness, and with a wink in Daine's direction, he walked over and shook Numair's hand firmly. "Good to have you both here again."

"Thanks, George," said Daine, picking up Kitten and looking around the courtyard. Imrah of Legann nodded at her, and Daine smiled back, unsure how she was supposed to treat him. He was large and had a great, bushy mustache, hard eyes, and peppered hair, but he seemed good-hearted. Tkaa gave her a warm welcome in mind-speak from his station on the north wall, and the voices of many animals from all over the castle grounds rang through her head as well.

"Do you want to see the kids, Daine?" said Alanna, giving Daine a reason to temporarily push back the deafening voices in her mind. "They're in the infirmary."

"Of course!" said Daine, suprised. "I didn't think they'd be here - "

"It's a long story," said Alanna grimly.

"Daine, Numair," the king began sternly. "I want you two rested. No fighting for either of you today." As both mages opened their mouths fully intending to argue, Jon put up a hand, smiling slightly. "No. What use would I have for an exhausted black robe and wildmage?"

"They understand, Jon," said Onua insistently, leading the horses to the stables. Thayet hurried over to help.

"And if they don't, I can always slip dreamrose in their drinks at supper - "

"I'd like to see you try, George," muttered Numair.

Daine laughed and placed a calming hand on her teacher's arm, liking the feel of the strong muscles under her palm. "Don't argue, Numair, you know you're going to lose."

Numair made a disbelieving noise in his throat, but didn't reply, just reached over and ruffled her hair again. "I'm surprised. For once, you are less stubborn than I am. Are you feeling quite well?"

"You're always stubborn, you ridiculous man," snorted Daine. Looking at Alanna, she noticed the Champion watching her closely, violet eyes gleaming. "What?"

Alanna suppressed a laugh, pressing her lips together and smiling warmly. "Nothing."

Daine felt Numair's fingers quickly untangle themselves from her mass of curly hair, so Daine followed his lead, taking her hand off his arm too. "Come on," she said, heading towards the infirmary with Numair and Alanna just behind her.

"Daine! Ma said you were away," little Alan called happily as soon as the group entered the twins' room. Aly nodded vigorously by her brother's side.

Daine laughed, kneeled, and patted each of their vived red heads. "Yes, but we're back now, ducklings."

Numair suppressed a snort, but thankfully, Alan and Alianne didn't seem to mind. Thom pulled on Numair's cloak until the mage gave in and picked up the boy. "Yes, Thom, I'm fine," Numair assured him. "And yes, someday I will teach you the big magic tricks I used to _stay_ fine."

"Look," Thom said proudly. He waved his hand, and a burst of violet fire exploded at his fingertips, nearly scorching Numair's long nose. "Sorry," said Thom, looking immensely guilty.

"No worries. I'll teach you how to control that spell, too, shall I?"

Daine shook her head in amusement and hugged the twins again as they, too, looked up at her with wide, pleading eyes. "And I'll take all three of you around to see the animals," she promised. Glancing up at Numair, she saw him watching her with a curious expression. "What?"

"You'll make a good mother one day," he said absently, then paused. "You've – you've always worked well with the twins, that's all."

"Thanks," replied Daine, a warmth tingling through her body as she smiled at him. "They're a massive handful - "

She was interrupted by Aly's squeal as she and Alan held a mock duel, running around the room and pretending to swing at each other with imaginary swords. Aly ducked and dodged around her brother, while Alan flung his sword-arm fiercely in every direction, whacking Daine on the knee.

Numair set Thom back on the ground and started to tutor him through the steps of a basic fire-spell. Watching out of the corner of her eye, Daine couldn't help but think that he, too, would make a wonderful parent one day. _It's odd that he never settled down,_ she thought. _I guess no one would put up with his books and lists and such._

Unseen by both Daine and Numair, Alanna and George watched from a short distance, swapping glances full of meaning. Alanna raised an eyebrow, and George nodded, smirking. Both adults then suppressed a burst of laughter, and they had to back out of the room quickly to avoid revealing their presence.


	17. Mystery

Sorry for the wait! Between school and writer's block and new addictions, I'm having trouble writing this. But I'm not stopping, just slowing, and I'm actually okay with this chapter, even though it's short, so that's a good sign. Finally got around to looking over it and replying to comments! So many reviews, you guys rock! So here's some almost-fluff, Numair-angst, and a little cliffy, enjoy.

**Horseluvr13 - **thank you! Plot is usually easy to come up with, it's character that's hard when you're trying to advance the plot, or even in slow-moving times. I love Numair so much when he's trying to be so damn honorable... it's cute!

**Fyliwion - **This one's not quite as long as my others, but it's not too short. You're right, most novels so have pretty long chapters, so I guess it works.

**Jess - **Haha, I'm still chugging along... It looks like I'm going to be aiming at a chapter a week, so I hope I'll be able to keep that up. All school is evil, but I don't know if anything is quite as evil as high school - I want to be in college. I'll use fanfic to get me by until then. Haha, Alanna and George are so brilliant, and if only there wasn't a war... I can imagine them really enjoying themselves while "helping" their buddies. Who knows, maybe they still will.

**Starling Rising - **I agree, Daine and Numair are just stupid sometimes! Those were all really fun to write, especially Alanna's, I always imagined that she saw Numair like a brother. Her little brother, of course, so she can enjoy taunting him about his mediocre swordplay and be a matchmaker. And of course George just loves to joke.

**Scales - **They are my favorite friendly matchmakers. Thank you!

**Irish Ninja Chick and Evil Bunny of Death - **thank you!

**Cygnet Shearwater - **Yay, I'm glad you got back into it! Thank you very much!

**skyisthelimit - **Thank you! Fanficition is such a wonderful way to put off things that are important, eh? I love it that way. I'm trying my best to work fast! And yes, Daine and Numair are just the best couple ever.

**.111 - **I think Daine and Numair would realize that, except they each feel like it's not possible that the other person loves them, so they don't want false hope (even though it'd actually be real. ironic, huh?) That or they're just silly.

**Dance Lover - **Thank you for the tip! I have a plan for them to get together (of course) and until then, we just get to enjoy the suppressed feelings and cute moments.

**EDITED**

* * *

Stretching and yawning, Numair rubbed his eyes and sat up in his bed. It was a huge relief to finally be sleeping on something much softer than the firm sand of the desert – even the mediocre beds at Legann were far better than a bedroll on the ground. But as comfortable as a mattress and sheets were, he couldn't help but miss Daine's presence. She was in the room next door, he knew, but it had always been comforting to know she was right across the fire, safe and whole. And he couldn't stop himself from remembering the one night she was cut off from the People, and had needed him there with her. What if something like that happened to her again, and he wasn't there?

_Don't be foolish,_ he told himself, sliding out of bed and shivering as his feet touched the cold, hard stone floor. _She's safe here. As safe as any of us are._ His reasoning was somewhat undermined by the sudden screech of a hurrok, followed by a resounding thunk, and Numair winced instinctively. Glancing around, he saw sunlight fighting to shine through the one grimy window in his room, trying to light up the drab furnishings, tiny desk, and few belongings Numair had with him. Sighing, Numair pulled on boots and a shirt and scrambled to the door, still fastening the top of his cloak. As much as he loved to sleep in, there was no way he was going to be able relax until the war was over, and he knew Tortall needed him to help as much as possible. _Might as well get started now,_ he thought dryly.

"Good morning, Numair," came a voice from outside the door, along with a few hard knocks. It was Daine.

"Daine?" he said hurriedly, opening the door. "You should be resting, you know. You don't need to be up this early - "

"You are," she said pointedly, glancing him up and down. "I know you don't sleep in that. And besides, someone _really_ wanted to see you. She was wondering why you weren't there all last night."

"What? I've been here all night - "

He was interrupted again, this time by what felt like a small cannonball springing out from behind Daine and barreling into his chest, pushing him backwards onto the floor. Laughing, Numair recognized Kitten, who was trilling angrily at him and pulling herself into a more dignified sitting position on his chest. "I'm sorry, Kit," apologized Numair, lifting the young dragon so he could stand. Holding her up, he met her eyes squarely, and to his relief her scales shifted to a warmer blue. "We'll get to spend plenty of time together, I am sure. Blowing up immortals and such."

"Don't make her think about that," scolded Daine. "Be cheerful."

Another immortal - either a hurrok or a Stormwing - let out an earsplitting screech, making both Daine and Numair flinch.

"I'm not really in the mood," commented Numair wryly.

"Let's go eat," sighed Daine, taking Kitten and placing her on the ground. "Don't wander."

Kitten chirped once, a sound Numair knew to be an indignant affirmation. The dragonet weaved in between both mages' legs, brushing alternately against Numair and Daine before charging towards the kitchen, a good distance ahead of both of them. She went immediately towards the cooks, titling her head and putting on a pitiful expression. When the cooks ignored her, as someone had obviously informed them to do, Kitten pouted and made a grab for a loaf of bread.

"Sorry!" called Daine hurriedly, rushing in to grab Kit before she wreaked any havoc. Numair stood behind, rapidly smothering a laugh.

"You could help," Daine continued, glaring at him sidelong.

"You don't need me," said Numair airily, smiling a little. Daine huffed and whipped her head around.

"Of course _I_ need you," she said flatly, her back to him. "It's whether or not Kitten needs you, isn't it?"

Kitten trilled angrily at that. Daine laughed, scratching her behind the ears. "Sorry. My mistake - Kit doesn't need anyone. She just likes you."

Before Numair could reply, Daine's face scrunched up, her eyes shut tight and mouth a thin line. "Immortals," she said. For a second, her face flashed with a strange kind of pain and worry, and Numair remembered her ability to sense immortals' approach. Being surrounded by hordes of them must be taking her a lot of concentration to keep from being swamped.

"I can help you with blocking them out, if you like," offered Numair, calling a bit of his Gift to his fingertips. It would be simple enough to create another barrier in Daine's wild magic, like the one he had made to protect her two-legger self from her People self. Only this time, it would be blocking off the part of her wild magic that connected her to immortals.

"No - we shouldn't. There's a lot of them. They're coming from the north."

"So much for breakfast," muttered Numair.

"Take something as you go." Daine grabbed a breakfast roll and shoved it into his hands before rushing out the door, shouting to the men and women in the courtyard. "Immortals! In the north!"

Shaking his head, Numair followed her as quickly as possible, eating half of the roll. He managed to catch up to Daine outside the armory, where a soldier was handing her a tall, dark-wood bow.

"Eat," Numair commanded, holding out the other half of their meager breakfast.

"No, you eat it, you're bigger. You need the energy more than me - "

Numair grabbed her shoulder and insisted. "What kind of teacher would I be if I let my student run off to fight on an empty stomach? Always be prepared. And it would be more than _I_, by the way - "

Daine's eyes flashed, and she opened her mouth before Numair could even finish his sentence. But instead of talking over her, Numair stopped talking and took advantage of the short second before she started to speak - he popped the roll into her mouth, grinning. "_Now_ let's go," he said cheerfully.

Daine put her hands firmly on her hips, looking furious. After a split second's pause – where she glared as fiercely as a hawk but still held half of a roll in her mouth - she conceded. "I should shoot you for that," she said at last, wiping crumbs off of her face. They walked quickly towards the north tower.

"You wouldn't," responded Numair, feigning astonishment.

Behind him, Kitten chirped excitedly, then whistled and made his black opal glow. Numair turned and frowned at the dragon. "When did you learn that?"

"Tkaa must have taught her. Kit - stay here, out of sight, okay? There's a lot of immortals." She turned to face Numair, and now he could see the fear clearly in her eyes. "I've never felt so many before."

"We'll defeat them," Numair insisted. He couldn't bear to see her frightened, not when he himself was already so worried about her safety.

Daine screwed up her face again, wincing. "They're getting closer."

Numair knew there was no need to reply as they rushed up the steps, trusting Kit to stay behind and stay safe. In moments, they emerged on the top of tower, where multiple grooves and blood stains on the rocks showed that many battles had already been fought - and recently, too. Looking out into the distance, Numair could see a slight distortion among the clouds, a straight, blurred line high in the air. To the west, there was another fuzzy area – another group of immortals. Quickly his mind flew through different defensive tactics against being surrounded.

"Numair?" said Daine, so softly that Numair almost didn't hear it.

"What is it?" he asked, looking at her closely. The sun flared at an angle, accentuating her eyes and her features and making tiny lights glitter in her wild hair.

"I don't really know," said Daine. She shifted her ears to those of a bat's, and then grumbled when that didn't appear to solve her problem. Facing Numair, he saw that the fear was gone, replaced by an intense determination. "Something's wrong with something."

"What?" said Numair again, more persistently. "I need specifics, Daine, I can't - "

"That's all I know!" she said angrily. Suddenly she grabbed his hands and placed them on her own temples, closing her eyes as she did so. "I don't _know_ what's wrong. Use my senses and see if you can tell."

Numair bit his lip, worried, but he tried to form a connection between their minds regardless, calling on the ever-present power of his Gift. Magic tingled through him, warming his body; it floated out of his fingertips and into the air around them. Daine's hands stayed on top of his, her cool skin distracting him enough that he had to take a few deep, calming breaths before attempting the full spell.

When he did, he felt the familiar surge of adrenaline that came from completing advanced magic – and then a splash of darkness, the transition between one mind to two. The instant he made the connection, Numair could tell what was causing Daine such disquiet. There was _off _about these new immortals, and Daine and her animal friends knew it. But it was odd, because just like them, Numair couldn't tell what was wrong. Only that there was definitely _something_. It was the kind of feeling Numair always got when he had to eat something like milk or meat that he knew had gone slightly bad, but there was no other choice. The immortals' color, usually a powerful gold, was duller, like rusted metal. It made a tingle run up Numair's spine – or Daine's spine – and they both fell into an immediate conversation through their shared thoughts.

_I see what you mean. I can't quite tell what the source of the problem is._

_I don't know if the source matters, _Daine replied, clearly irritated._ We just need to solve the problem. I can ask the People if there's anything they can do._

Numair was about to reply with one of his usual academic lectures, about how only by finding the source of a problem can the problem be eliminated, but he stopped himself as he felt Daine reaching out to the People. Different colors danced inside his mind like dragonflies in the summer; it was similar to what he had "seen" inside Kitten, but at the same time vastly different. Each color had a different _feel_ to it: some were soft, or irritated, or cold. The logical part of his mind was mystified – colors couldn't feel angry, or scared, or sad. But there was no other way to describe it. He could see now why Daine sometimes had such trouble explaining her power to other people. For a brief second, Numair nearly lost himself in the splashes of color and the presences of so many living things all around him, and he wondered in amazement how Daine managed to do this like she did.

_You get used to it, _thought Daine dryly. _None of the People know what this… strangeness is._

The colors faded, and now Numair was swamped with a sudden awareness of Daine's feelings instead of the People's. The last time he had shared her mind, he had sensed that the feelings were there - but now they seemed sharper, much more defined. It was so vivid that he almost couldn't tell whose heart was pounding faster or whose mind was more overcome with worry.

_Are you okay?_ Daine asked. Numair suddenly remembered that the effects of a shared mind went both ways.

_I'm fine,_ responded Numair hastily. He pulled back from her mind, returning his own body, an odd blankness opening up inside him with the silence that had so recently been filled by the People. Daine turned to face him, an odd expression on her face.

"The immortals seem stronger," he said quickly, avoiding her eyes. "Is that it? That this group has more magical power?"

"Not _stronger_, though. Just different."

Chancing a glance down at her, Numair saw that she seemed to be sufficiently distracted – which was good. Relieved, he forced his thoughts to problem at hand – the immortals. He scoured his mind for any speck of information that could help solve the problem, but nothing emerged. Numair only remembered the Graveyard Hag's words before she disappeared: that Ozorne had a "present" for the Tortallans. Tortall was being inundated with more immortals than anyone had ever been seen before, even before the Human Era began. Could that have something to do with Ozorne? But Numair knew it was impossible to change the nature or will of immortals with the Gift, and that was all Ozorne had at his disposal. There was no way he could force immortals to leave the Divine Realms and attack. But if he didn't change the immortals themselves?

"He had to be changing something that was affecting them," Numair murmured to himself.

"What?"

"I think I know what the problem is," responded Numair, his voice sounding distant, even to his own ears. A horrible realization was dawning on him.

"What is it?" Daine asked urgently. Numair looked down at her, his chest nearly exploding with a mixture of worry and fierce pride.

Grimacing, Numair shook his head and forced himself to concentrate. Reaching out with his magic, he probed the air around him for something that he knew didn't exist wholly in one realm – and he found it.

It was like a wall of liquid glass, molten, breathing and molding to the shape of the earth and everything around it. To his magic-hands, it felt as if he were touching malleable stone or solidified water that existed, somehow, in the middle of the sky, separating two worlds. But Numair extended his reach further, spreading his Gift as far as it would go. Every now and then, he would feel a tug at his essence where his Gift was sinking away from him.

Lowering his hands, he glanced back at Daine. "It's not the immortals that are different. It's the barrier."

"What? What about it? What's that mean for all the immortals coming through it?"

"That's the problem. They aren't coming through it, they're - "

But before he could explain, Daine jumped in front of him and whipped her bow around, letting an arrow fly and imbed itself in a Stormwing's neck before Numair could even blink. Daine grimaced, wiping a splatter of thick Stormwing blood from her cheek.

"Too late, isn't it?"

Cursing, Numair shot black fire at a hurrok and incinerated it instantly. All around them, archers and mages were attacking, trying to hold off unending flow. Chaos reigned. Numair allowed himself one last look at Daine, bow at the ready and brown hair flying in the wind, before throwing all his efforts into keeping them alive.


	18. Reason

Okay, this chapter involves a LOT of explaining, so it's kind of slow, I suppose. I hope you can follow, I'll answer questions if necessary. Sorry for the sudden cutoff too; I had intended to put the next scene in this chapter but it got too long and there was nothing I could cut, so it's going in the chapter. And I assure the next chapter will be very fluffy; I apologize for the lack of both fluff and suspense in this chapter. My muse has reignited, so it won't be too long a wait, don't worry.

**Dance Lover - **thank you! It should be about a chapter a week, so don't give up on me yet!

**Fyliwion - **thank you! Yup, they're stupid.

**Starling Rising - **A little more filler/fluff, then more action... A constant, ongoing war is hard to write. Haha, I got that idea the other day when one of my friends was singing, and another friend wanted her to shut up, so she shoved a cookie in her mouth. Kinda different, but I'll go with whatever sparks my inspiration.

**Ayame - **Thank you! She probably thought that it was her own feelings reflected back, or perhaps she couldn't tell exactly was it was before Numair pulled back so fast - we may never know, only because I like being in Numair's head more than Daine's. Heh.

**Cygnet Shearwater - **thank you! This is the main part where it's sorta similiar, sorta different. I'm diverging and making up some facts here, but hey, that's why this story is AU! It's more fun that way.

Thank you for all the reviews guys... can I make it to 100? Enjoy!

**EDITED**

* * *

"The barrier's been stretched," Numair said bluntly, facing the room. Everyone stared back at him, all with the same expression of complete confusion. "Think of it physically. Like a curtain the immortals have had to pass through. Before, with the small holes in the curtain, they appeared in smaller numbers, and with less of the abilities they had while in the Divine Realms. Now - "

"Now they've been coming in larger numbers," interrupted Thayet, "because the holes in the barrier are larger?"

"Essentially, yes," Numair conceded. Jon rubbed his face anxiously, and not for the first time throughout the course of the meeting. "But it's more than that. The barrier was created to halt immortals' passage, but it doesn't only prevent movement between realms. It is supposed to weaken the immortals who somehow manage to pass through. Their physical forms should be rent apart when they touch the barrier, and therefore, useless in the mortal realms. Which is why, at the beginning of the Human Era, citizens swore on their children's lives that they heard loud, inexplicable shrieks, high in the air. But they faded after a while; the immortals learned."

Pausing, Numair glanced around again, his eyes now lingering on Daine. She was wearing the expression of intense concentration that she always worse whenever he started speaking academically. He usually found it cute - but now, all he could think about was the awful truth of what he had discovered, and he just wanted to comfort her.

"So, for the last 400 years, the immortals stopped trying to get through the barrier, because it held them up and hurt them," summarized Jon, looking at Numair for confirmation before continuing. "But now, something is different."

They were meeting in the only place they could in the entire castle that was safe from eavesdroppers and spies, even with soundproofing spells by Alanna and Numair. The dark basement was filled with extra weaponry, unused supplies, and plenty of dust, but it was the best place for Numair to break his news. Alanna, George, Thayet, Jon, and Daine were gathered around a small, circular table, sitting in cramped armchairs or on wobbly stools. Numair was on his feet.

"It's impossible for either a human or a dweller of the Divine Realms to completely destroy the barrier on their own. Even though it was created solely through human magic, it is now intertwined with the Realms of the Gods. Therefore, it can only be destroyed by mages of the same caliber it required to manufacture the barrier working in a joint effort with powerful immortals from the Divine Realms."

There was a long pause. Every other person in the room had the exact same expression of blank incomprehension, and Numair sighed.

"Simply put… One human or one immortal, or one group of such, can't destroy the barrier on their own. It's too tightly connected to the both the mortal realms and the Divine Realms."

"But if they work together?" asked George, his eyes shrewd. "Immortals with someone here, in our world?"

It was Jon who answered this time, still holding his face in his hands. "It's unlikely. Only the gods can commune across the barrier, and they would not have much to gain by meddling in the specific affairs of mortals."

"Are you serious?" Alanna, George, and Daine all spoke at the exact same time, then looked at each other, managing small, strained smiles.

"What?"

Alanna fingered the ember she wore around her neck. "My connection with the Goddess herself? Daine's connection with the Badger?"

"And the Graveyard Hag," the young wildmage muttered, holding her badger's claw. Numair thought he might have been the only one who caught her words.

"I've had a fair share of trouble with gods, too," George said darkly, the usual twinkle in his eyes absent. Everyone except Alanna looked at him questioningly, and he sighed. "I probably should've told you this earlier. The reason the Copper Isles attacked? It was Kyprioth's doing."

"Kyprioth?" asked Thayet. "The Trickster? Why would he have any more motive to attack us than the Copper Isles monarchs did?"

"I've got no idea," said George. "My little birdies told me that the Copper Isles monarchs are mad, though. Losin' control. I would've believed they just wanted an excuse to fight, but… Kyprioth made himself known to me. We did business in the past, and he never lets me forget it." The former thief paused, and Alanna squeezed his shoulder. Numair was struck by how easily they could communicate with each other – flawless support, despite their differences.

"So if the gods enjoy inferring with our lives so much," Jon corrected himself, "then could a god have caused this problem with the barrier?"

"It's technically possible, but still, not likely," Numair said reluctantly. The tense look in Daine's and all of his friends' eyes was torturing him. Each word added to their pain. And even though he knew it wasn't really his fault, he couldn't help but hate himself every time he spoke. Closing his eyes, Numair formed a wall in his mind, blocking emotion from necessity.

"If a god were causing this, he or she would have just completely destroyed the barrier. Gods have that ability. In this case, though, the barrier hasn't been destroyed - it's still very much present. But the small holes the immortals have been perforating through over the last three years have now turned into one large gap. Before, the immortals had to touch it when they came through the tiny rips, and it weakened them. But now…."

Numair let his sentence trail off, glancing around and seeing the sudden understanding and fear creep slowly into everyone's eyes. It made his heart clench to watch.

"Oh, Goddess," muttered Alanna, turning to George, who laid a scarred hand on her shoulder. Across the room, Jon squeezed Thayet's hand, shooting her a fearful glance.

"There is more," Numair said, disgusted with himself. "What I said before was that one human or one immortal couldn't _destroy_ the barrier on their own. And as I also said, the barrier hasn't been completely destroyed. One mortal – a powerful mortal - is perfectly capable of creating this hole in the barrier. Any mage with the same amount of Gift and the same level of competency as the mages created the barrier at the beginning of the Human Era could have created this hole with the right knowledge."

After a brief pause, where Numair imagined he could hear his audience's minds whirling, they all moved their gazes from the floor back to him, aghast and disbelieving.

"Who could have done it?" George asked sharply.

"There are a limited number of mages in and around Tortall who have the raw power," Numair explained. "Me, for one. Alanna and Harailt might have enough. Inar Hadensra from Scanra, Matthieu of the Copper Isles - "

"We get it," Daine interrupted hurriedly, cracking through Numair's emotional barrier with just the sound of her voice. "No lists. Who do you _think_ did it? We know it's not you or Alanna or Harailt, so - "

"I can tell it was done by just one mage. It's impossible to know for sure which exactly - but I think I know."

Here he paused, unsure. He flicked his gaze to Daine again, who frowned at him, her eyes sharp.

"Well? Who?"

"I think it was Ozorne."

For a split second, Daine froze. An icy stillness spread throughout the room, and Numair wasn't the only one to notice it.

"Daine? Are you all right?"

Daine blinked and shook her head quickly. "I'm fine," she said, stubbornly avoiding the king's gaze. She glanced once at Numair, but flicked her eyes down at the floor before he could say anything. "Keep talking."

Numair watched her closely, but she didn't look up, and her brown curls blocked her face from view. Feeling eyes piercing into the back of his head, Numair glanced behind him to see Alanna glaring at him fiercely, one eyebrow raised. Numair and Daine had so far avoiding telling anyone exactly what happened while they were stuck in the desert – the memories were too fresh, and too painful for that – by using the excuse of exhaustion. But Numair knew that Alanna, at least, was not going to wait much longer. He looked her imploringly.

Alanna's eyes burned into him for a moment longer, then she nodded slowly, her gaze softening. George and Thayet glanced at Numair too, but Jon kept his eyes on Daine. Daine didn't move. Numair sighed.

"Daine is right, it's not me, Alanna, or Harailt. Scanra is too close to Tortall to risk unleashing immortals, because they would know there is a high likelihood that the immortals would start attacking across the border. With an opening this large, it would be impossible to use the controlling methods we've seen before. The same applies to every country bordering Tortall and any mage residing there with enough power to do this. They wouldn't risk their own country. That leaves the Copper Isles and Carthak."

"And the Yamani islands," interjected George, but Jon shook his head.

"We have an alliance with Yamanis," the king said firmly. "I trust them."

There was a brief moment of silence, and Numair broke it. "I don't think it has anything to do with the Yamanis," he said reassuringly. "Nor the Copper Isles, because when they and their patron god left, the immortals didn't. If they had caused the hole in the barrier and were only attacking us on the whim of Kyprioth, they would have closed the hole when they left. Kyprioth wouldn't have wanted to leave things messy; he would get in too much trouble with the great Mithros. A huge spell like that is risky and would only be done by someone with nothing to lose."

"So that leaves Carthak and Ozorne," Daine muttered, still looking at the ground.

"We've excluded all other possibilities," Numair said as gently as he could. Part of him wondered why Daine was reacting so strongly this time – Ozorne had been mentioned around her before and she hadn't ever been so bothered. "Ozorne makes sense. He had everything to gain – and he told us he left us a surprise," Numair finished bitterly, ignoring the questioning glances coming from everyone except Daine. There was a brief pause, while each person contemplated the full meaning of everything Numair had said.

"We've got work to do, then," said Alanna practically, after a moment.

"I'll tell Imrah, Onua, Raoul, Gary…" Thayet said, rubbing her forehead, just like her husband did when he was stressed.

"You don't have to tell them the specifics of why and how," Numair said gently. "Just the fact that the immortals are stronger. And that there are more."

"I think they know that much," the queen said dryly, rising to her feet. As she was about to the leave room she turned back and gave Numair a very strained smile, the stress breaking her beauty. "I'm glad you're back, Numair. I don't know what we'd do without you."

Numair attempted to smile in return. "You'd probably kill the immortals and defend Tortall as best you could. Just like you will now. Knowing why they're here and why they're so strong doesn't change our actions much."

"But it keeps us focused." Thayet paused. "Thank you, Numair," she said seriously, then turned and hurried out the door. Jon rose and followed her, sighing deeply.

"I'd best stay with her," the king said grimly. As he passed Numair, he placed a hand on the mage's shoulder for a moment, then nodded at Alanna, George, and Daine, before heading out of the room as well. Once he was gone, Alanna groaned and fell onto a chair, twisting her fingers in her hair and growling. Daine didn't say a word, but whipped around and walked out of the door too, keeping her gaze focused on the floor.

"Daine?" Numair called, starting after her, but Alanna looked up quickly.

"Numair, wait," she said urgently, all signs of exhaustion gone. "You _have_ to tell me what happened to both of you in Carthak. Now."

"I will tell you, I promise," said Numair, glancing from her to the door, "once I know Daine is all right. Is that all right?"

He barely waited for Alanna's curt nod before hurrying out the door after Daine, leaving Alanna and George alone behind him. Numair rushed up the dark staircase as quickly as he could, emerging behind one of the temporary refugee barracks. Glancing around, he saw Daine nowhere. _She can't have gone far,_ he reasoned quickly, so he started to list all the places she might go for comfort. The stables. Her room. A forest with wildlife. All were too far for her to reach so quickly, and yet she was nowhere in sight. _Where else could she be?_

A gull screeched and spiraled in a dive overhead, and suddenly, Numair knew.

_The sea._

To his left was a gray, stained sentry-post, a massive pillar towering into the sky. It was only a few yards away – Daine could have disappeared into the dark, spiraling staircase in seconds. _She'd want to see the ocean, even if she couldn't reach it._

Without hesitation, he started up the wall-tower, feeling his way through the dark, narrow staircase. Sure enough, he found Daine sitting at the top and facing the vast, glittering ocean. Sun sparkled off the tears on her cheeks. She was leaning against the cold stone with her knees held tightly to her chest; wind blew around her and tossed her hair around her head. Walking over to her, Numair sat down, their arms barely touching. They sat together in silence for a moment, watching the waves crash and roll, and Numair placed his hand over hers, resting it gently on her knee.


	19. Memories

Yay, over 100 reviews! You guys rock. Pure fluff here, and a little character analysis of our mages from Alanna's part. The action is slowing down temporarily, but you'll find out why... eventually.

**Evil Bunny of Death and Ayame** - Here you'll see why, I hope it makes sense!

**LadyWolf **- Thank you very much! Compliments like that just really make my day; it's good to know some more crazy ideas make sense. Heh, I always have to look over chapters like five times before I get rid of all my typos and grammar mistakes.

**Fyliwion** - It gets even better -wink- Fluff is heaven.

**Tatsu** - Wow, thank you so much! I love all reviews, but in-depth ones like that are the best. I'll look over my other chapters sometimes, see if there's any of those words I want to change; I guess I just get in a habit. Thank you again!

**Cygnet Shearwater **- Thank you! I guess I picked the sea because every time we've seen Daine around it (at the Swoop, mainly) she really seemed to enjoy it. Besides, the sea has its reputation in anything to be naturally calming. And since she can't make out into the woods with the People because of the war, the stables would be crowded and she can't reach Cloud, I imagined she'd want to see the ocean.

**Starling Rising** - Oh yes, fluff galore here. Thank you, and I'm glad it made sense!

**EDITED**

* * *

At last, Numair broke the silence as easily as he could, giving Daine's hand a gentle squeeze. "No sentries up here," he commented lightly.

Daine sighed, shaking her head and glancing briefly at him before looking back at the sea. "It's not a watchtower."

"I know. It's kind of odd that it was built, then, isn't it? Why do you think this was built?"

Daine raised her eyebrows. "Are you testing me?"

"Only if you answer," said Numair, smiling.

She laughed a little, but the joy didn't reach her eyes, which wandered back towards the ocean. Numair's grin faded. He shifted, reaching out with a hand and taking Daine's chin, turning her face towards his. She met his gaze with defiance, but tears still sparkled in her eyes and on her face.

"Daine," Numair said quietly. "What's wrong?"

She pulled her face out of his grip and looked down. Numair saw a tear fall onto the ground.

"I can deal with people just mentioning him," she said bitterly, her voice shaking. "But this?" Another tear trickled down her face. "He's _dead_ and he's still hurting us. You. Everyone. He's gone and he's – he's still… It's like parts of him are still here, and part of me is afraid he'll come back. But that's – that's silly."

"It's not silly," Numair said firmly, brushing a thumb across her cheek to wipe away the tears. "It's normal. Part of me is scared of that too, and I didn't go through nearly as much as you did."

Numair paused, hoping his words wouldn't cause her to be in any more pain than she already was. He could almost feel her anguish eating into his own heart. "He won't come back, magelet. You're strong, and memories are nothing more than memories."

"It's not what he did to me so much," she whispered. "It was watching him hurt you." Daine raised her hand and gently touched the two cuts on Numair's face, tracing over the tender skin as they crisscrossed on his cheek. Numair knew he'd always have scars, and yet, as he felt Daine's fingers, he wasn't particularly disappointed. His skin tingled and flushed, but he kept his voice calm.

"Two cuts and some bruises. It's nothing. I've had worse." He paused, his next words coming out more softly, and before he really had time to think about them. "But you - watching him nearly - "

"He wouldn't have," Daine interrupted.

"What? You're basing this on his honor?"

"No," Daine replied, indignant. "Of course not. I would've stopped him if he actually got close."

"Mithros, Mynoss, and Shakith, Daine," Numair groaned, shaking his head in exasperation. "He _was_ close. I should have been able to stop him, I should've - "

"Shush," Daine said, placing her hand on his lips. Numair fell silent instantly, slightly surprised by the sudden role reversal.

"By the end I could've attacked him at any time - the Hag freed my magic. But I knew if I transformed and attacked him outright, he'd have time to react. So I had to let him - do what he did."

She dropped her gaze, biting her lip. Numair stared at her in amazement. She'd had the ability to free herself? But she'd stayed where she was – to give _him_ time for formulate a plan? Guilt washed over him – he should've done something sooner, so Ozorne would've been finished and done with. He should have saved her the pain, saved her the memories. _But she's strong,_ another part of his mind argued. _She can deal with memories. _

Numair sighed and placed an arm around her shoulders, rubbing her arm gently. "I'm sorry, Daine."

Daine didn't reply at first; she simply leaned her head over onto his shoulder. "Do you promise he won't come back?" she asked softly.

"I swear it," Numair replied. Daine turned and curled up closer to him, closing her eyes and turning her face so that her cheek was resting right below his shoulder. Numair's heart raced; he couldn't bring himself to pull away. He wrapped his other arm around her, holding her close.

"I trust you," she said, more strongly, and Numair could feel her breath pass warmly over his skin. A breeze blew by, ruffling her hair and sending a few strands fluttering across Numair's face. When Daine shivered, Numair took one side of his cloak and wrapped it around her, blocking both of them from the wind. "Thanks," Daine murmured, quiet once again.

Numair lost track of the time as they sat there, watching the sun glitter on the waves, constantly rising and falling. Almost all sounds seemed to vanish, leaving only the sea, wind, and the sound of Daine's breathing, matching his own. He could feel her heart beating close to his. It was like they were the only people in the world. Numair's mind was torn between happiness and anguish, his heart pounding wildly out of control. Thoughts clashed in his mind, battling for dominance.

_How can something so wrong feel so right?_ _Why isn't she pulling back in disgust, thinking I'm awful and lecherous?_

_Does she only need comfort? But like this?_

_No. Don't do that; don't think like that._

_Maybe. _

It was maddening, having so many different voices and feelings clamoring for attention, all at the same time. Numair closed his eyes and breathed deeply, catching a hint of salty ocean air and bitter blood – but more so he recognized Daine's musty soap and straw smell, part of the scent that was so uniquely her. It did nothing to improve the stress in his mind. Perhaps not breathing was better. Sighing, Numair opened his eyes and studied the small figure in his arms, her face half-hidden by tangled curls.

Nearly four years after their meeting, her appearance was now ingrained into his memory as if he had always known her. Numair brushed the hair away from her face. Her cheeks and small nose were pink in the cold, and her mouth was open slightly, lips moving just the tiniest fraction with every breath she took. Numair could picture her eyes, too, hidden below dark eyelashes, stormy gray and full of emotion.

_Stop,_ he told himself, closing his eyes again. _This doesn't help anything._

Daine shifted slightly, murmuring something Numair couldn't catch. Out of instinct, he looked at her again, moving his face closer to hers to see if he could hear. "What?"

She didn't reply. Titling his head, Numair realized that she was asleep, her eyes closed and her breathing slow and even.

Very carefully, Numair tightened his arms around her and stood as gently as he could, not wanting to wake her. It was anything he could do to give her a sleep free of nightmares. She was warm and light in his arms – she probably hadn't been eating enough. Her arms were pulled in close to her chest and her hands were curled into tiny fists lying next to his heart. She fit into his arms easily, her head falling into place on his shoulder. It was easy, comfortable.

Numair cradled her in his arms as he carried her over to the staircase. Before starting his way down, he glanced back at the ocean again – it was too beautiful a view to not take advantage of. Now that he concentrated, he could tell that at least an hour must have passed since the underground meeting, for the blurry sun wasn't casting as many sparkles on the waves as it had been before. Sighing, Numair turned his head away, the rest of the world floating into life around him. There were shouts of sentries, screeches of immortals, clangs and bangs from the kitchen and the armory.

_A moment of peace in war,_ thought Numair as he looked at Daine again. _They're scarce._

To his relief, no one was around as he carried Daine back to her room. Somehow she managed to sleep through all the noise. Pushing her door open with his shoulder – Numair winced at its loud, grating creak – the mage navigated through Daine's mess of belongings to reach the small bed in the corner of the room, just as messy as everything else. He laid her down carefully, trying his best to keep her comfortable, and slid off her boots before pulling up the sheets and blankets. Daine clutched at them, curling up again, frowning in her sleep and murmuring. Numair reached down and brushed a few stray strands of hair off her forehead, and as he did so, she relaxed, releasing her tight grip on the blanket.

When he reached the door, Numair paused, glancing back at his magelet. She was calm and peaceful, possibly for the last time in weeks. He watched as she turned over, unsettled, a very Daine-like expression of frustration on her face, even in her sleep. Smiling slightly, Numair shook his head and finally stepped out of the door, leaving it open a crack so he could be sure that the People could come and go as they pleased. As he left, he heard Daine mutter something yet again, and his smile grew; he hadn't known she talked in her sleep. This time he caught the last part of sentence, hearing her say softly, "Love you too."

Numair froze, his mind buzzing and ringing, and then beating himself for it. She was just dreaming, after all.

Then he cursed, because now he found himself hoping fervently that - for some reason - Daine had been dreaming about him.

* * *

Three women stood at old stone sinks, up to their elbows in soapy water and dirty dishes in the kitchen that was adjoined with the dining hall. The servants were appalled that such people as their queen, the Lioness, and their personal friend were doing something as lowly as washing dishes, but they knew not to argue. The servants let them have a whole line to themselves, because the three were determined to help out as much as possible in any way they could if they couldn't be fighting.

"Pass me the cups," said Onua, with only a tiny hint of weariness. Thayet, however, didn't try to hide her exhaustion. She yawned widely and handed the teetering stack of mugs to the horsemistress.

"Careful," the queen said tiredly, rubbing her eyes on her shoulder rather than her soaking, soapy arm. "A few of those are porcelain."

"What are they doing with porcelain in war?" muttered Alanna under her breath.

"Mithros knows," sighed Thayet, and they lapsed into a weary silence again, systematically scrubbing, rinsing, and drying the day's dishes. Alanna glanced up briefly, and through the tiny, grubby window above the counter, she could see Numair walking alone across the courtyard, in the direction of the infirmary, where Jon was standing giving orders. Alanna's temper rose at once. Numair was _not _going to get out of telling her what happened by getting himself assigned sole sentry duty.

"What is it?"

"It's Numair," said Alanna in frustration, throwing down the rag and looking pointedly at Thayet. "You must have noticed. He's been deliberately avoiding telling _anyone_ what happened in Carthak. So has Daine."

"You can't really blame them," Onua interjected gently. "We don't know what happened. They might not want to talk about it."

Alanna sighed; Onua's words made sense. As a friend, she wanted to do whatever she could to help both Numair and Daine. But as herself, she also wanted to prove something that seemed glaringly obvious to her and so many others. Except for Daine and Numair themselves, of course. To everyone _besides_ them, it was perfectly clear – something was changing between them, and they had no idea what to do about it. If there wasn't a war going on, Alanna knew she would be hugely entertained by watching things unfold. But as it was, the constant onslaught of immortals held a priority over matchmaking her two friends.

She knew both of them too well. Especially Numair. Alanna knew that each would have their own set of fears and rationalities as to why nothing could ever change. It was just that neither of them knew that they were being ridiculous, for the most part.

"Still with us, Lioness?"

"Sorry," replied Alanna, waving absently at Onua. "Just thinking." She paused, wondering whether her friends had picked up the same "vibes" that she had off the returning black mage and wildmage. "About Daine and Numair, doesn't it seem like - "

" - there's something different between them now?" both Thayet and Onua finished, grinning.

Alanna grinned too. "It may be mildly rude on my part, but – I'm looking forward to seeing what will happen. They're perfect for each other, you know."

Thayet and Onua nodded as well, with identical impish grins; the first really happy moment they'd had in a long while. Alanna glanced up again, catching sight of Numair heading towards one of the tall, dark towers. "Oh, no he doesn't," she muttered, the grin sliding off her face. She started out the door, with Thayet and Onua right behind her. Hurrying between the servants and assortment of small tables in the kitchen, Alanna tried not to knock anything over even in her haste, and then walked as fast as she could between two of the long tables in the dining hall, ignoring the odd looks the few people in the room were throwing at her and her companions.

"Numair!" Alanna called out as she emerged into the courtyard. She tried not to sound _too_ frustrated. As if she were simply waving him over for assistance. But she could see Numair wince slightly, which brought a small smile to her lips. Under normal circumstances, she might have laughed - but she knew whatever Numair was going to tell her was undoubtedly _not_ a good experience.


	20. Confrontation

Spring break at last. Here's a looong new chapter for you all to enjoy! Over my 3000-word personal chapter limit. Fun Numair angst; I hope it doesn't get too boring though. Oh, and finally a little plot point at the end. More to come. Eventually.

**Scales - **Wow. Thank you so much. That really means a lot! You're right, it's really great to hear that.

**Starling Rising - **Thank you! Oh, yes, Alanna can't wait for her answers. She's not a very patient person.

**Fyliwion and xxTunstall Chickxx ****- **thank you!

**Lady Wolf - **Alanna wanted to know what happened in Carthak, since both Numair and Daine were avoiding telling anyone, so she was determined to get answers. Lol, thank you! And the last chapter just happened to be really short, but this one makes up for it - the longest chapter yet!

**Cygnet Shearwater, Evil Bunny of Death, Jess, .111 - **thank you! The Lioness and her friends aren't going to let Numair off easy -wink-

**EDITED**

**

* * *

**Numair whipped around as he heard someone call his name. Grimacing, he realized it was Alanna, stalking towards him with Thayet and Onua close at her heels, all wearing identical, demanding expressions. He knew at once that they were determined to interrogate him about Carthak at last. The Lioness stopped squarely in front of him with her hands on her hips, violet eyes flashing dangerously, and suddenly Numair found himself praying fervently that she wasn't carrying a sword at the moment.

"You owe us an explanation, you know," she said, her voice light and conversational, despite her fierce glare.

"I couldn't just tell you that I have recently been posted to the east wall and must leave right now, could I?" ventured Numair cautiously.

"_No_," all three women said firmly at the exact same time. A few passing guards turned to look at them curiously, and so Thayet motioned the others behind the infirmary, where it was much more secluded. Numair glanced between each of them, wishing that for once, they would back down. Unfortunately, all the women in his life right now were extremely stubborn, and he knew there was no hope.

"Look, we just - we had to run off into the desert and got stuck there for a few days. That's all." In his head, Numair knew that there was no way they would believe that.

"Right," growled Alanna. "Something happened out there, Numair. Why is Ozorne dead?"

"Why are you asking only me?" he shot back, annoyed. His blood boiled in his veins and fury filled his heart at even the _mention_ of Ozorne's name.

Alanna took a step closer to him and stood on her toes, bringing her face close to his. Her eyes narrowed and flashed again, and even though Numair was still a foot taller than her, it was incredibly intimidating. "Because you're the adult, Numair," she whispered angrily. "Because Daine's still young and she shouldn't have to relive it all!"

"She's not a child!" hissed Numair, stung. His heart panged at being reminded of the fourteen-year age gap between him and his student - but then his logical mind kicked in and actually _processed_ what Alanna was saying. If Numair told them about Carthak, Daine wouldn't have to, and as strong as she was, whatever course of action caused her the least pain was the best one for him to take.

Alanna's eyes suddenly softened, and she fell back on her feet, still looking up him. "I know," she said gently. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," responded Numair, a little surprised at her sudden change of heart.

"Please tell us, Numair," said Thayet, sitting on a nearby crate.

Numair stayed silent, thinking. It was hard enough talking to Daine about what the emperor had done, much less having to tell the entire story to someone who hadn't even been there. "Is this a command from my queen or a request from my friend?" asked Numair at last, grinning half-heartedly. Thayet sighed.

"A request from your friend," she said gently. Numair sat down beside her, figuring that whether he decided to tell them or not, he was going to be here for a while. Alanna and Onua sat down as well, somehow looking both fierce and comforting at the same time.

"And you all have to be here," he asked, more of a statement than a question. He put his hands behind his head, leaning back and trying to look casual.

"Yes," they all said unanimously again.

"Better than telling it three times," Alanna said practically, crossing her arms.

"Numair," began Onua, softly, speaking for the first time. "We need to know. Not only to help you, but to help Daine as well. If you tell us, she won't have to go through all the memories again."

Onua had him. Hearing her say it aloud confirmed the thoughts floating around in Numair's mind. He sighed, meeting Onua's eyes, and he saw a kind of knowing warmth. Ignoring it, he glanced at Alanna and Thayet too, knowing he now had no way out.

"Ozorne captured Daine while she was destroying his palace because she thought I was dead," he began bluntly. Alanna frowned and opened her mouth, but Numair held up his hand. "Don't ask questions. I stopped Ozorne and got her out to the University - "

"You killed him?"

"What did I _just_ say?" asked Numair dryly, and Thayet bit her lip, her eyes apologetic. "I'm sorry. It'll just be easier to finish once I've started and don't have to stop." She nodded, understanding, and Numair continued. "No, I didn't kill him, he got away. I don't know how. We only spent a day at the University before we had to leave. While we were getting supplies, someone – probably Ozorne – tried to kill us, by creating earthquakes in the capital of Carthak. They were more than just tremors; he infused them with magic that interfered with Daine's wild magic."

"Interfered with?" inquired Alanna, earning herself a glare from Numair. She scowled, but looked slightly remorseful. "Sorry."

"It forced her out of the animal form she was in," explained Numair, blushing slightly and hoping the women wouldn't notice. "It was probably the same kind of magic that Ozorne used on Kitten, and what he used to stretch the barrier. It's a type of magic that upsets natural forces, such as the way a being's body functions, or wild magic, which is a force on its own."

"You're stalling," Alanna interrupted again, flicking his knee with a finger.

"Fine, fine," he conceded, continuing on with the story, explaining how they escaped into the desert and had to stay there for days. It took him a while to recount the Hag's capturing of Daine, hating the memories of helplessness when his student had been in the Divine Realms. He skipped the scene where Daine lost touch with the animals, and he spent the entire night holding her, feeling that three women would read far too much than he would like into that particular night. But it was even harder when it came to the next morning, when Ozorne and the Hag arrived in the desert.

"The Hag bound me, and Ozorne - well, he never liked my face very much," Numair said, gesturing to the two scars on his cheek. "But then he started to threaten Daine, and I lost control and blew my way out of the Hag's bonds. I was drained."

"You blew your way out of bonds set on you by a _goddess_?" asked Onua, who had so far been very good about not interrupting. "Just because you were angry?"

"'Angry' doesn't quite cover it. And the Hag didn't put as strong of bonds on me as she could have." He told them almost everything else about the battle; that the Hag was never really under Ozorne's control, that she had only pretended she was so she could entertain herself. That she had decided she liked the pair of mages more than the power-hungry emperor. That she had helped Daine use her powers against the emperor and gave Numair's back, enabling him to kill the former Emperor of Carthak.

And he stopped there, hoping against hope that Alanna, Thayet, and Onua wouldn't probe into his story any more. Technically, he hadn't lied, but he did not want to tell them the whole truth. Alanna raised an eyebrow, obviously able to tell there was something more. "Is that it?" she asked calmly.

"Then we came back to the capital, helped Kaddar repair and restore his palace, and he sent us home," Numair said, praying fervently that they would accept his words and move on. But then, in the back of his mind, a traitorous voice told him that Daine might need comfort only another woman could give – so should he tell them? _She was content after _I_ was with her,_ his mind argued back, recalling her calm face as he laid her on her bed. _But I can't do everything, can I?_

"There's something you're not telling us," sighed Thayet, but she didn't seem angry. Instead, she stood and faced Numair, her beautiful and tired face understanding, but not pitying. "But you've told us enough. Thank you."

She turned to walk off, throwing the other two women a significant glance over her shoulder. Alanna sighed and rose as well, looking once more at Numair. "Thanks," she said softly, her voice kinder than Numair had ever heard it before. She squeezed his shoulder briefly, then followed Thayet, walking quickly to catch up with her friend.

Onua rose too, with a nod to Numair, but he quickly held out a hand. "Wait," he said quietly, Alanna and Thayet now out of earshot. Onua titled her head, frowning.

"What?" the horsemistress asked, coming back to sit beside Numair on the dusty crates. "_Is_ there something else?"

"Yes."

"Why are you telling only me?"

"Because I think you can help Daine the most," explained Numair cautiously, meeting her eyes. This was a painful subject, for both him and Onua. "You know her well. You share a bond with animals. You were the first person she met in Tortall. And you've had a similar experience."

"Similar… experience?" Onua asked warily. Numair bit his lip and took a deep breath.

"Ozorne wanted to take her as a mistress in exchange for my life. He used her to torture both of us at the same time, when both of us were bound. She barely escaped. I couldn't do anything."

The horsemistress's eyes widened for a second, and then she frowned, but she didn't gasp or shout. She was controlled and calm, like she always was, and Numair was grateful. But he could tell from her demeanor that she was horrified and furious - her eyes hardened and her shoulders were set tensely.

"Horse Lords," she said quietly, looking across the castle in the direction of Daine's room. "Daine."

They sat silently for a moment, Numair staring vaguely into the distant sky. Specks – Stormwings or hurroks, most likely – littered the clouds behind the forest. Hearing Onua's heavy breathing beside him, Numair couldn't help but remember when he first met the K'mir, after she had just escaped from her abusive husband. She had been so wary she of all men for months, and Numair knew he was lucky that she had trusted him so soon. She came with him to the palace and merged in with Rider life, but no matter how much time passed, there was still a blankness in her eyes whenever her husband was mentioned. It had always hurt him to imagine Onua's past, and yet Numair knew it would hurt even more if Daine's vibrant eyes ever took on that same painful bleakness.

"That bastard," muttered Onua, standing up. Numair looked up at her, now feeling the anger radiating from her like a fire. "I'm glad he's dead. I wish I could've killed him myself."

Numair opened his mouth, but found he had no idea what to say, and closed it rather stupidly.

"I'll go talk to her," Onua sighed, slightly calmer. She held out her hand to help Numair to his feet, and gave it a short squeeze. "Thank you for telling me, Numair."

Numair nodded back. Onua turned and left, heading straight to Daine's room. Watching her go, Numair hoped desperately that the horsemistress could say something – anything – to help Daine if she needed it, if only to ease Numair's pointless worries.

* * *

A knock on the door startled Daine out of her thoughts; she scooted Kitten to the foot of her bed and rose to peer through the crack in her door to discover the identity of her visitor. Seeing that it was Onua, Daine unhooked the deadbolt and opened the door, smiling. "What brings you here?"

Onua came in, glancing around the cramped quarters. It was a mess, Daine knew, blushing slightly. Clothes littered the ground, along with a few of the gifts she'd brought from Carthak. All of them had come from Kaddar - except for one, a talisman from the Banjiku that she had set carefully on the tiny pinewood table in the corner. The carpet underneath the table was rolled up and dusty at the corners. She realized she probably should take better care of the room.

"For the record," Onua said, sitting on Daine's bed and rolling a loose string from the rough, gray blanket between her fingers. She looked up, her normally sharp eyes unreadable, a mix of understanding and harshness. "I hate Ozorne and pray to Mithros and every other god out there that he burns for all eternity."

Daine blinked, taken aback – and then she realized. She sighed, sitting down beside her friend.

"Numair told you, didn't he?"

Onua nodded. "He figured I would understand." She rubbed Daine's shoulder bracingly, her hand warm. Daine glanced at her gratefully.

"Thanks, Onua," she murmured.

"Not at all," said the older woman. They sat together for a while, just long enough so that Daine could finally let the memories go, fading into the nothingness that was all they ever should have been.

* * *

The sun seemed to rise early the next day, as everyone was bustling around at the crack of dawn. Then again, in war, there were always people bustling around. Pinkish rays flooded the castle like soft cream, pale and warm, but even its tender sweetness gave no one any real pleasure. Numair stood, weary and anxious, on the north wall, trying to keep himself from falling asleep on his feet. He pinched himself hard on the elbow as his head drooped, earning him a snort from a nearby archer. Numair glared at him, wishing he could incinerate the man on the spot. He must be a newcomer, for everyone knew that if they valued their lives, it was a very unwise decision to irritate the black robe mage in the morning. The archer, however, didn't flinch, but simply winked from his post and shifted his bow.

"We're all tired, Master Salmalin," the dark-skinned man said with a weary smile. "But you've got your duties, same as the rest of us."

Numair stared at him, amazed that someone who wasn't even an acquaintance had the nerve to speak to him in such a casual, careless way. The man noticed his stare, and his grin became a little more lively. "Name's Adémar, sir. Pleased to meet you."

"My pleasure," grumbled Numair, not in any sort of sociable mood.

"I've heard a lot about you from young Daine," Adémar said lightly, squinting vaguely at something in the distance.

Numair's interest was immediately piqued. If this man had heard a lot from her, he obviously had spent time with her - and Numair didn't like that. At the very least, he had to ensure himself that this man was decent. Numair frowned, truly alert for the first time all day since he'd woken up. "Who are you again?"

"Adémar," grinned the man, obviously restraining a laugh. Not many people got the chance to see the great black robe during anything but his finest moments. "Head of Legann's archers."

Head of the archers. That would explain why Daine had seen him – as an archer herself, on her normal duty hours Adémar would be her commander. Numair relaxed slightly; knowing that Daine might have only talked to this man out of duty rather than choice soothed him a little. He knew he shouldn't feel jealous – Daine completely deserved a strong young man like Adémar, if that was what she wished – but he couldn't help himself. It was foolish and irrational, but it was human.

"She's a good girl," continued the archer, pulling out a spyglass and squinting into it. "Amazing with a bow. Longbow or crossbow. Crazy, for someone her size."

Numair opened his mouth to reply, both proud of his student and annoyed that Adémar was being so complimentary. But then the archer put down his spyglass with a very confused expression, and Numair had to concentrate. Switching his mind from thoughts of Daine to thoughts of tactical possibilities, Numair asked, "What is it? Are there more immortals coming?"

"No," said Adémar slowly, though he still looked oddly perturbed. "They're all gone."

"Gone?" repeated Numair, disbelieving. Looking closely, he suddenly realized that the distant sky was no longer littered with the black specks of forming immortal armies. He scanned the horizon, finding no ground-based immortals either, but he had limited vision capabilities without any form of magnification like the Sight or a spyglass. As if he had read Numair's mind, Adémar wordlessly handed over his spyglass, and Numair looked as critically as he could at every piece of Tortall's landscape. Dense forests, rolling hills, clear sky – and there wasn't an immortal in sight. "Nothing," Numair murmured, utterly bewildered. He exchanged a glance with Adémar, their previous conversation almost completely forgotten.

"I'll tell Lord Imrah," the archer said, shouldering his bow. "It can't be over this easily." He left, walking hurriedly towards the tower staircase just as Numair caught sight of Onua coming up. It was the first time he had seen the horsemistress all day – he hadn't seen Daine yet, either. She approached him quickly, and Numair's heart leaped at the calm expression on her face. Surely that meant Daine wasn't too upset or anything of the soft.

"How's Daine?" Numair asked at once as the K'mir came to stand beside him. Onua smiled, glancing up at him briefly.

"I think she's fine," the horsemistress replied, sounding confident. "I stayed with her till past sundown. We just sat together. Talked a little. She was doing fine on her own, anyway; I just helped her let it out, instead of locking it all away."

Numair instantly relaxed. It was good to know – for certain – that she would be all right. A great deal of stress seemed to have lifted from his shoulders. "Thank you, Onua."

Onua shrugged. "I just knew what to do, that's all. I knew it was natural to try and push it all away."

Numair titled his head so he could see her eyes; they were staring at something out in the distance. He couldn't imagine the pain she might have had to relive to help Daine. The young wildmage was lucky to have found such friends. "Thank you," he repeated firmly.

Onua looked up at him again, meeting his eyes with one raised eyebrow. "She cares a lot about you, you know," she commented lightly, her eyes gleaming.

"What? Did – did she say that?"

"No," replied Onua, a smile appearing on her lips. "It's just something I can tell."

Numair paused, unnerved, deciding at last that his best course of action was to change the subject. "All the immortals have disappeared," he informed her casually. His plan seemed to work – Onua frowned, her suddenly narrowed and calculating eyes flying to the horizon.

"Horse Lords, they have, haven't they? That's – odd."

"It is. We need to make sure that we're ready for whatever surprise they're planning - nothing is over yet. We can't imagine that they've vanished entirely."

"You're right," said the horsemistress, looking back over her shoulder at him and winking. "Why don't you go get Daine up here? She's eating breakfast, I think."

Numair winced. Obviously, the sharp woman wasn't as easily distracted as he thought.

"Talk to her, Numair," she said, turning back to the horizon. She spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Numair frowned, but decided go ahead and walk towards the stairs; there was no use in arguing with her.

_She can't possibly know,_ he thought, trying vainly to delude himself_._ Glancing back, he saw Onua watching him with a smile on her face, and he sighed, turning back around.

_She knows._


	21. Correspondence

A little faster, yay for breaks from school. Sorry it's dragging along so much, it does have a plot and it will all tie together, eventually. I just have to get there. And this is another chapter where it's cut off kind of strangely, since otherwise it'd be wayyyy too long. But that also means I have the first half of the next chapter written, so hopefully I won't make you guys wait too long for that. Oh, and haven't proofed this much, but I promise I will.

**.111 - **Nooo, don't worry, Adémar's not involved with Daine or anything at all, they just had to work together. I can't imagine Daine with anyone other than Numair, anyway. It just doesn't compute.

**Starling Rising, purple smurfs r real, Evil Bunny of Death, and Fyliwion - **thank you! Numair's so fun to torment. -evil grin-

**Cygnet Shearwater - **thank you! Me too, I've always thought Onua deserved more background than she was given in the books, and if I ever start a series of TP ficlets, I know I'll include her. And there's a little mention of the convo in here, cause it's finally from Daine's POV again, but not the whole conversation. One, the story is dragging enough, so I don't want to backtrack on something that's already been covered, and two, I'd probably screw it up terribly.

**Jess - **thank you so much! Don't worry about it, late reviews can be nice, cause you don't get any reviews for a few days and then it's really nice to see one. I'm going to go read your story, I finally have free time because I'm off from school!

**EDITED**

* * *

Daine stretched carefully so as not to disturb the other little guests in her room before picking up her longbow, figuring she was probably due for duty. She'd overslept. Just as she was about to head out, Kitten let a great snore, starling the sparrows that had decided to visit during the night. Zek, however, curled into a tight ball by Daine's pillow, was so used to the dragonet that he didn't even twitch. The sparrowed twittered nervously, flying in circles around the wildmage. Daine smiled, soothing the sparrows and walking over to Kitten.

"Wake up, Kit, you're irritating my friends," she said sternly. "Tkaa will need you sometime today, right? You'll want to be able to eat breakfast before you have to go off working and all."

Kit yawned and stumbled to her paws, fluttering the tiny wings protruding from her back. The sparrows chirped, annoyed, and the young dragon whistled at them.

"Be nice," admonished Daine. Turning to the sparrows, she continued in mind-speak. _She's grumpy in the morning. I apologize, wing-sisters._

The sparrows settled on her shoulders instead, gently pecking through her hair. With Kitten at her heels and Zek still sleeping peacefully, Daine left the room and said goodbye to the sparrows as they left too, heading for the safety of their nests. Looking around, Daine saw the castle already a bustle of activity. She frowned, speaking her thoughts aloud to Kitten. "I wonder what's going on?"

Kitten trilled questioningly, and Daine reached down to pick her up. "We'll get food in a minute, let's find out if anything is happening."

Kit nodded, and Daine proceeded out into the courtyard, realizing she probably looked very strange with a dragon in one hand and a bow in the other. Catching sight of Numair by the north wall, Daine started towards him, suddenly anxious to be around him again. She hadn't seen him since he had sat on the tower with her, where she supposed she had fallen asleep. She was grateful that he'd been there and didn't know if she'd had the chance to tell him that.

"Morning, Numair," she said as she approached, letting Kit jump from her arms to curl around Numair's feet. Numair turned around, his face breaking into a strained smile as he glanced from Daine to the dragonet at his feet.

"Good morning to you, too," he replied, bending over to tug Kitten off his boots. "I'll get you something special from the kitchen if you'll let me walk," he bribed, when Kitten refused to move.

Kitten paused, considering, then disentangled herself from Numair's legs, trilling. Daine laughed, while Numair threw her a sheepish glance and a shrug. Free of the obstruction of a dragon on his feet, he walked over to Daine and placed both hands on her shoulders, leaning down to look at her face. "Are you all right, magelet?"

"I'm fine," she said firmly, closing the subject. Motioning around at the bustling castle, she asked, "Is something happening? Can I help?"

Numair considered her for a moment, something unusual gleaming in his eyes. He crossed his arms lightly and looked out across the courtyard. "It's more of what's _not _happening that has us worried at the moment."

Daine frowned, confused, and he proceeded to explain. "The immortals have vanished. No one can see them, not even those with the Sight." He titled his head, his expression thoughtful. "Daine, can you sense them? The immortals. See if you can sense them nearby."

Troubled, Daine tapped in to her copper well and started unweaving the threads she'd used to block her sense of immortals. She closed her eyes, letting awareness flood back into her body. She could sense a universal presence of something that was not two-legger or People – so therefore immortal - but not _specific_ presences like she usually could. It was far easier on her mind than when hundreds of immortals had surrounded the castle, but at the same time, this unspecific feeling was oddly disconcerting. "Sort of," Daine said carefully, then told Numair what she could feel. "It's never done anything like that before."

"Concentrate - are you sure there's no approaching immortals?"

"I'm sure," she said, opening her eyes. "I think we should tell the commanders that there's no need to panic, but don't drop defenses. I don't think they all organized together; immortals don't work like that. But that means they've been ordered by something more powerful to either leave completely, or leave temporarily so that the thing that's more powerful can organize them to fight."

Numair didn't respond at first, but just looked at her admiringly, a smile curling the corner of his lips. Daine blinked. "What?"

"Very insightful," he commented, placing a hand on her shoulder and starting to walk towards the king and queen, who were talking to Lord Imrah.

Daine beamed at him. "I learned from the best, after all," she said teasingly, poking his arm. Numair squeezed her shoulder, smiling broadly.

"Of course you did. Thus, I should get all the credit for your idea. We either aren't going to be attacked again, or we're going to be attacked by an even stronger force."

"Not necessarily stronger," clarified Daine, ignoring his first comment. She let Numair steer her across the courtyard, with Kitten trotting at their heels. "With a strong leader, which means they'd be an organized army, instead of attacking us sproradically all the time."

"Sporadically," Numair corrected her, tweaking her nose. "Close. And you're right. An organized army is far more dangerous than even a large group of disjointed, disconnected immortals attacking whenever they get the urge to."

Daine nodded, understanding, and Kitten trilled indignantly, obviously realizing they weren't heading towards the kitchen for her promised treat. But before either mage could answer her annoyed request, Daine froze, a prickling on the edge of her senses. "Stop," she said suddenly, trying to concentrate. Having spent so much time purposefully blocking out immortals, it took her a moment to recognize the approaching enemies.

"Stormwings," she told Numair. "Up in the northwest. Not very many, but some. I'll take care of it." She turned to head towards the northeast tower, but Numair caught her arm.

"Wait a minute, Daine," he said, ever watchful. "Are you sure there's not too many? I'll come with you."

"No," Daine replied, reluctantly. As much as she would've liked him to be there, she knew she could handle the immortals on her own. "It makes more sense for you to tell the king and queen, and I'll go make sure the Stormwings don't get through. There's a few other archers up there now, and I'm pretty sure at least one has the Gift." Numair still looked a little skeptical, but he released her arm, and Daine smiled at him. "I'll be fine."

"I'll meet you up there in moment," Numair assured her, as she turned away. "Be careful."

"I know," Daine said. "Kit, you can come with me or stay with Numair, you'll get your treat eventually either way."

Kit opted to stay with Numair, obviously wanting to ensure she would get her prize. Numair was much far more pliable than Daine when it came to Kitten's food-related desires. Daine glanced just once over her shoulder as she headed towards the tower, the prickling in her mind getting stronger.

In a few short moments, she was looking at the now familiar sight of the grounds surrounding Legann. Without warning, she was struck by a sudden, fierce longing to get out of the castle. Wind blew through her hair, bringing scents of the forest; freshness stung her skin and she yearned for more of it. They hadn't been anywhere else in Tortall since they arrived, and she was aching to see Cloud and simply be somewhere other than inside the fortified walls of Legann. _Anywhere_ else. The part of her with the strongest connection to her wild magic wanted to shift into a powerful falcon or hawk and fly along the wind currents in sky until she was far, far away from the confining castle.

"Lady Daine?" someone behind her asked, startling her slightly.

Daine turned, pushing back her wild magic, to see a young, nervous-looking archer watching her expectantly. "Yes," Daine said hurriedly, the sense of approaching Stormwings getting stronger, little by little. "Stormwings coming, get ready to fire." She pointed to the visible speck in distance, and the archers and mages all along the walls notched their bows or called their Gifts to their fingertips. It was done remarkably efficiently – even with the recent lack in attacks, no one was letting their guard down.

Just as the Stormwings were getting into firing range, and every soldier was preparing to fire, Daine paused, squinting. There was something familiar about the strong sense in her mind, and shifting her eyes to those of a cat's, she suddenly recognized a blond-haired face that she never could forget. Blond, with bones dangling in his hair, a sly smirk plastered across his features.

"Stop!" Daine shouted urgently, noticing the archers pulling back their bowstrings. "Hold – hold fire!"

The young archer beside her turned to look at her oddly, along with many of the other nearby soldiers. Daine ignored them, rushing to the edge of the parapet and leaning over slightly, unsure of what she was really seeing. But sure enough, as the group drew closer, Daine knew without a doubt that it was Rikash, followed by Queen Barhza and Hebakh, and about a dozen other Stormwings from the Stone Tree nation. Rikash gripped a white scrap of cloth in one vicious talon, and as he swooped onto the edge of the ramparts, he grinned at Daine in his usual mischievous manner. Despite the rancid smell he brought with him, Daine found herself smiling in return.

"What a kind welcome," the Stormwing said pleasantly, glancing at the two dozen bows and blasting-spells trained on him from both sides. "I knew this flag wouldn't help. We're lucky you were here, I suppose, Daine?"

"Rikash," Daine said, smiling widely and shrugging. "Me or Numair would've let you past.

"Longshanks," commented Rikash lazily, tilting his head and rustling his metal feathers with a distinctive clinking of metal. He glanced around. "Where is our tall mage? He's never far from you, is he?"

"He's in the castle," said Daine. Barzha and Hebakh landed smoothly on Rikash's left, the female Stormwing eyeing Daine appraisingly while Hebakh glared suspiciously at all the soldiers. The young archer behind Daine gave a small cough, having backed away to the far side of the tower and put her hand under her nose.

"There's no danger," Daine told the girl, ignoring the odor. "These are allies."

"Relatively speaking," interrupted Rikash. "Stone Tree nation is in debt to the Emperor Kaddar for freeing our Queen. Our way to repay him would've been to kill the former emperor Ozorne, but considering that's been taken care of, we must repay our debt another way. It has been suggested that we do it by aiding you and your mage, Daine."

The terrified archer stared, utterly bewildered, while Daine turned back to Rikash. "How did you know Ozorne was dead? And who told you to aid us?"

"We have our ways," Barzha said airily, throwing a clawed wing into the air. Behind her, the group of Stormwings settled as one into nearby trees, and the Queen glared intently at Daine. "It does not matter to you why we are here. You will need our help, and I suggest that you take it."

Daine frowned, still confused. "Why are you - ?"

"Stop asking questions, and go run and tell your king and queen and your mage that we're here," interrupted Rikash, looking over Daine's head. "I think they've noticed, though."

Sure enough, everyone below on the grounds and courtyard was staring up at their tower, obviously confused. Rikashed grinned wickedly and raised his wing in a sarcastic wave. "We make quite an impression, don't we?"

"My friends are fair odd, I know," muttered Daine out of the corner of her mouth. The archer behind her nodded vehemently and managed a small smile.

"It's a side effect of possessing that uncanny ability of yours," said Rikash. "Oh, and something else. I have a letter for you, Daine. From the Lady Maura of Dunlath." From nowhere, it seemed, the Stormwing produced a sealed envelope, handing it to Daine with his razor-sharp claws. "And a personal message that I came up with while traveling. Prepare yourselves. You'll be up against something that you are going to have a fantastic amount of trouble dealing with. No doubt about that."

Daine took the letter. "What - do you know what's going on?"

But Rikash just winked and laughed, taking off and joining his nation in the trees. Barzha and Hebakh were right behind him without a word of goodbye. Daine let out a frustrated breath. "He's so irritating," she muttered, before looking at the letter from Maura. She was about to open it, then decided against it – she knew everyone else needed an explanation of why a colony of Stormwings visited and didn't get shot. Daine turned to head back down the stairs, smiling at the young archer who'd stayed dutifully at her station throughout it all. When Daine reached the grounds, she found herself face to face with two bewildered monarchs, who immediately began their questioning.

"Daine - were you just having a conversation with a _Stormwing_?"

"They're not enemies - that's Rikash Moonsword, of Stone Tree nation, along with their queen, Queen Barzha, and her consort, Hebakh," Daine explained patiently. "We have somewhat of an alliance with them. They won't harm us."

"We do?" asked the queen, clearly skeptical. "And when did that alliance begin, may I ask?"

"I can answer that," came a voice from behind the two monarchs. Daine stood on her toes to catch sight of Numair, who had Kit sitting on his shoulder with some sort of pastry all over her nose. Bits of it had made their way in Numair's hair, and Daine couldn't suppress a snort of laughter.

"Do I look that bad?" muttered Numair dryly as he approached, brushing the bits of pastry away as Kit leapt off his shoulder, sneezing crumbs off her face. "Sorry. Kit wouldn't wait any longer for her food." With a sigh, Numair seemed to notice that the king and queen were still glaring at him questioningly, and he began to explain the rather odd relationship Daine and Numair had with the Stone Tree Nation. He told them about meeting the Stormwings in Dunlath, the aid they provided in Carthak, and the almost-friendship it seemed to have become.

"I'll take your word for it," said Thayet wearily, with a little sigh. "We have another ally. That cannot be a bad thing, surely. Is there still no word on what happened to the majority of the immortals?"

"Rikash told me to be prepared," offered Daine, remembering. "He wouldn't tell me any more, though. Maybe he couldn't."

"What's that?" asked Numair suddenly, pointing to the letter in Daine's hand.

Daine glanced down at it; she'd almost forgotten it was there. "Oh. It's a letter from Maura. Rikash must have visited her before he came here."

"You may go to your room to read it," said Jon, "if everything is under control here?"

"Far as I can tell, it is," said Daine.

Numair and Kitten followed her as she walked towards her rooms. "Do you mind if I come?" the mage asked, ever so polite. "I'd like to know how Dunlath is doing as well."

"Sure," replied Daine, smiling up at him. "They're probably really grateful to you, after all. You gave them the biggest apple tree I'd ever seen. They're probably making pies all the time."

"Daine," growled Numair. She laughed. Once in her room, she flopped down on her bed and opened the letter. Numair hesitated, but after a moment sat beside her; Kitten jumped up between them. For a split second, Daine was suddenly very aware of his body, barely brushing against hers – but just as quickly as it came, the rush faded, and Daine blinked, turning back to the letter. Internally wincing, she unfolded the parchment and leaned over a little so that Numair could read it, too.


	22. Heritage

There's not much to say here. An average chapter, with Daine and Numair ALMOST getting there but not yet. And a huge cliffy promising intense action. But nothing special.

**Fyliwion, .111, xxTunstall Chickxx, Evil Bunny of Death, purple smurfs r real** - thank you guys, I'm glad you liked it, here's the update!

**Aliane369** - Oh, it'll come, I promise. It'll seem like it's coming late, but if you think about TP's timeframe, Numair had to wait months, poor guy. My way, it's only been a couple a weeks. But you'll have to wait a bit longer.

**Starling Rising **- Me too, he always made me laugh. But I was thinking and I can really understand why he was killed off: someone had to die, it couldn't be perfect, and Rikash was a relatively easy choice. He wasn't vital to the rest of the plot and for some reason it's a lot easier killing of another non-future-plot-vital character like Onua. I choke up at the thought. But don't worry, he's gonna survive my story. I'm not good at killing people, I guess, I'll work on that. And thank you!

**Jess **- thank you! It's my spring break, two glorious weeks before school. Only one week left. But hey, I get to look forward to writing two papers instead of fanfic too. x.x

**Lizzy** - thank you so much, I hope you'll still like it as it goes on!

**EDITED**

* * *

_Dear Daine,_

_It's been so long since I heard from you! I hope you're all right. Rikash came and told me you were in Carthak, which I guess is why you couldn't get letters out easily. What's Carthak like? Did you meet any new animals there? All the animals here really seem to miss you. They stayed around the castle a lot while Tkaa was here, and Tkaa would translate sometimes and I'd talk to them. But after Tkaa left it was a little harder to communicate. I'm still trying, though. I leave crumbs on the ground for the mice, and seeds outside for the squirrels. _

_Brokefang walks by every now and then, too. I'm still a little scared of him, but he doesn't howl or growl or anything like that, so I guess he's not that mean. The little ones got really big all of a sudden, too. I think they're happy. No one is allowed to hunt them, and they don't kill the stock. Your power really is amazing._

_The ogres are enjoying their fields, too. They can farm even on the rocky slopes. And tell your friend, Master Salmalin, that his apple tree is giving us the best apples anyone has tasted in a century. _

Reading that, Daine laughed and poked Numair, giving him a distinctive "I-told-you-so" glance. He scowled jokingly and motioned back at the letter.

_Tait asked me to pass on his greetings to you. He says the dogs miss you, and that he hopes that Weiryn will still watch over you and guide your bow. I hope you will come to visit sometime - I would love to see you again!_

_Maura _

"That's nice of her," commented Numair, taking the letter out of Daine's hands and looking over it. "Dunlath is doing well, then. She's growing up, ruling well, and trying hard for the animals, too. At least it can be a comfort to know that not every part of Tortall is being ravaged by spidrens and Stormwings and all manner of immortals. Yet."

But Daine didn't reply. She barely heard Numair's words; she didn't comprehend what he was saying. Frozen, she gripped the letter tightly in her hands, memories coming back in sudden flashes. She remembered Tait and his dogs, and even though they were trying to capture her Pack – she remembered that they'd been kind. His face flashed in front of her – then other faces. The badger, her ma -

"_May Weiryn guide your aim, lassie."_

"_Flatten your fur, Weiryn. What makes you think I had any choice?"_

"_Badger, that's my ma. And – my da?"_

"_Yes, yes; you should listen when the Banjiku tell you things."_

"_A mountain god of the hunt. He's rooted in the forest and rock, kin to all that walks or swims or flies. On Beltane, ye can see him pass in the woods, with his hounds. Got antlers like a deer, he does."_

"Daine? Are you all right?"

Numair's voice pulled her out of her daze, and she felt one of his warm hands rest on her shoulder. The other hand took her chin and titled her face towards his, his eyes concerned. Daine blinked, trying to form words. Her mind was spinning out of control.

"My da," she murmured dazedly, her hand flying to the badger claw at her neck. "My da. He's Weiryn, the god of the hunt in the northwest mountains. I just… I just remembered."

Numair's mouth opened slightly; his eyebrows contracted in a frown. He glanced from Maura's letter to Daine's face, where tears were beginning to form behind her eyes despite all her efforts to stop them. Furious at herself, she bit her lip, thinking hard - she _shouldn't_ be crying! She had finally found out who her father was, after so many years. She should be _happy_. But for some reason, there was just a strange, gaping sense of loss deep in her heart, no warm feeling of acceptance. She had found out only by putting together a jumble of old, blurred memories, like a puzzle that had been forgotten and only returned to when there was nothing else to do. Daine should have met him properly, and hear from his own mouth that she was his daughter. Or, at the bare minimum, the Badger could have told her with an explanation; a promise to let her meet him.

"Daine?" murmured Numair, sounding unsure. After a brief hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Daine leaned into him, feeling both his warmth and the warmth of Kitten, who rubbed comfortingly against her stomach, whistling softly.

Daine was thankful that she managed to stop most of the tears, for she hated to cry and look so useless, especially in front of Numair. "Sorry," she sighed, rubbing her face. "I'm – I'm okay. I just didn't except to find out like this. I'd wanted to meet him."

"You will," Numair said warmly and confidently.

"How can you be so sure?"

"He's a god, Daine," the mage said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You share his blood. Which, now that I think on it, is most likely the reason why the Hag didn't manage to kill you when she took her power from you. And, perhaps that is also why she said - "

"I get it," said Daine with a small smile, recognizing Numair beginning his familiar habit of list-making. An immense rush of gratitude poured over her – Numair wasn't questioning her sudden conviction, he wasn't skeptical of the fact that she just _knew _the god of the hunt was her father. He believed her. Daine sat up straighter, feeling heat rush to cheeks, but she kept her hand tight around his. "But if he's a god and can come and go anywhere, how come I haven't seen him before?"

"He can't come and go anywhere. He can only travel between realms on certain days, like Midsummer, Midwinter, and especially Beltane. Minor gods have restrictions like that, but they still have abilities similar to those of the Great Gods." Numair paused, squeezing her hand gently. "I don't know much about Weiryn himself. Perhaps there are scrolls or books here that contain legends of gods from the northwest? I could help you look through them, if you like."

"Thanks," Daine murmured, stroking Kitten absentmindedly. "Maybe I'll ask the Badger to tell me something, too."

"Good idea," replied Numair. He hesitated, then rose to his feet, letting go of Daine's hand. "I'll ask Lord Imrah where he keeps scrolls and books here. I don't think they need us to fight."

Before he left the room, Daine stood suddenly, making Kitten squeal as she tumbled disgracefully to the floor. "Can gods visit in dreams?"

"I don't know, not for certain. Ganiel, the Dream God, controls most mortal dreams, but not all. It's possible that other gods can pass messages to mortals through their dreams, though probably not in ordniary dreams."

"I've seen him before, though. In Carthak, when I died bringing the skeletons back. Then when Ozorne captured me. And when the Hag took her power from me."

"In dreams?"

Daine nodded. "They felt more _real_ than a normal dream, though."

"All of those times were near-death experiences," mused Numair, tugging on his nose. "I don't think they were dreams. More like visions, perhaps. You probably were in the Divine Realms with your parents, but you were sent back here. I don't think gods could appear like that in regular dreams."

Daine looked down, disappointed, even though she knew he was right. She'd always known that each "dream" had been too real to actually _be_ a dream.

Numair paused, then walked back over to her, brushing a lock of hair off her forehead and tucking it behind her ear. Daine smiled, but kept her eyes on the ground. She didn't trust herself to look up at him. Her heart beat fast in her chest, and he was standing so close she was sure he could hear it.

"Try calling on the Badger, magelet. I'll see what I can find considering legends of Weiryn. You'll get to meet your father."

Before she really knew what happened, she felt Numair's lips gently brush her cheek, and then he was gone, leaving her standing slightly bewildered in the middle of her room. Kitten purred quietly, rubbing against her legs, and Daine picked her up. "He's strange, isn't he?"

Kitten whistled, turning bright blue and making Daine laugh a little. The young wildmage sat back down on her bed and touched the spot on her cheek where Numair had kissed her, her mind whirling with worries and wonderings.

Numair leaned back, surrounded by dusty scrolls and old tomes in another underground section of Legann. Imrah had informed him that any books they had would be here, and although most seemed to be records of military operations and field notes, there were some copies of common books of spells, literature, and history. Numair pored over every book he could find that had to do with gods, determined to find something out about Daine's father while they were in their temporary relapse from constant fighting. The room was dank and dreary, full of antiques, a dark pit that seemed more like a prison than a study. Numair sighed.

The door scraped along the floor as it opened, scattering dust and bringing in light illuminated the room more than Numair's single candle could ever have achieved. Daine slipped into the room, closing the door behind her and cutting off the torchlit corridor. Numair looked over the desk until he found another candle. He lit it with a match – he knew from experience that his Gift would only make it explode - and pulled out another chair for Daine. She slid into it silently, crossing her arms and looking irritated.

"What's wrong, Daine?"

She sighed, trying to smile. "The Badger. He can be so annoying sometimes. I confronted him about my father, and all he said was 'You're right,' and nothing else. He wouldn't tell me when I could see him, or more of who he was. He just assured me I was correct, made sure I was safe, then decided to leave."

"He cares about you," said Numair with a small smile. "People – or gods, I suppose – who care can be annoying."

"Maybe that's why _you're_ so annoying sometimes, master mage."

Numair laughed, drawing a grudging smile from Daine too. "Exactly, magelet. You should appreciate my annoyances. I'm just looking out for you."

"I can look out for myself," she muttered, but without her usual indignance. She glanced at the books sprawled out across the table. "Did you find anything?"

"A little. Weiryn is not very well-known in the south; his influence extends mainly in the mountains of Galla and Scanra. But here, it says he is a god famous for his skill at hunting wild game. According to legend, his antlered head and camouflaged skin would allow him to blend so well into the surrounding environment that he could be mere inches away from the target before he would make his kill. But also, he could stand two hundred yards away and have such skill with a bow that he could take down anything from a deer to a sparrow. That must be where you got your skill with a bow from."

"Hunting for food is acceptable, but for sport? My father is the god of the people who hunt simply because they _enjoy_ it?"

She sounded disgusted, and Numair found he had no idea what to say to comfort her. She had never really met her father, so she had never had any chance to find out what his personality was truly like. And now she was hearing that her father stood for the one thing she abhorred above almost anything else – hunting for pleasure. Numair had never really liked his own father either, but at least he had _known _the man. Before he was sent to the University, the young Arram Draper had known exactly who his father was along with what he stood for. Daine only knew the world's view of her father, and it would shape what she thought of him for the rest of her life, no matter how well she ever got to know him. Numair's heart panged.

"I'm sorry," murmured Numair. He knew of nothing else to say. Daine shrugged, but didn't speak, so he turned back to the book with the information on Weiryn. "It says here that his power is strongest on Beltane nights. He can cross any barrier without trouble. That's probably when he met your mother, and when he can visit you."

Daine nodded, staring at the ground. "My mother said she'd met him in the woods on Beltane. It makes sense, then, that he'd be able to come see me then, right? With my mother?"

"I – I don't know about your mother. She's resting in the Peaceful Realms. Only gods can visit mortals."

"But they're always together." Daine bit her lip. "Whenever I saw my father – in the dreams, or whatever they were – he was always with my mother. If we were in the Realms of the Gods - "

"It's possible for a deceased mortal to become a god and live in the Divine Realms," mused Numair, recalling facts that he couldn't even remember learning. "Weiryn could have petitioned the Great Gods to have your mother instated as a goddess so they could live together. But in exchange, both would be bound to Weiryn's lands for some amount of time allotted to them by the god that they made the bargain with. It could be anywhere from a decade to five centuries."

"Then they can't visit, can they?" Daine sighed, speaking a statement rather than a question. Numair knew she was smart, and understood the implications of his words without him having to explain.

"You'll see them, Daine. If they're gods, then they can talk to every other god that exists, including Ganiel, master of dreams, or they can pass messages through the Badger. They will find a way to communicate with you."

Daine looked up at him, her eyes sad, though she didn't cry. "How do you know?"

"Because they love you. They would do whatever they could to speak to you and see you. Whatever it took to make you happy."

Without warning Daine threw her arms around his neck, and Numair, caught off guard, froze for a moment, before wrapping his arms tightly around her as well. He rested his head on her curls, breathing in the subtle shampoo and slightly musty scent that was so uniquely Daine. He heard her murmur a soft "thank you," and before he knew what he was doing he stroked her back gently, tracing his fingers along her spine. She moved back a little so that she was facing him, and Numair found their noses touching and her eyes bright and clear. Her proximity was making his heart beat out of control, like it always did, and his mind nearly shut off completely, conscious of only one thing – _Daine_. Her fingers were twisted in his thick hair. He was holding her as close as any lover. They both paused, and in that brief moment Numair could have sworn there was a palpable spark that passed between them. His whole body seemed to rush with anticipation.

"_They're coming back!_"

A sentry's sharp scream split the still air. Both Numair and Daine whipped around at once, the spell broken, looking up in the direction of the shouted warning. Standing up, they headed towards the door, perfectly in step. Daine glanced at him. Her eyes were wide, both because of the shout and for some other reason that Numair couldn't read. But before he could look more closely, she dashed up the narrow stone steps that led to the surface. Numair started after her as quickly as he could, an intense mixture of feelings swirling inside in his head.

In his head, he knew he should have been thanking the gods that someone had shouted at just the right time, stopping him from acting with a frozen mind and a speeding heart. But for one moment, with Daine in his arms, it had felt _right_, rather than horribly out-of-place and illogical. Fourteen years hadn't mattered, student and teacher hadn't mattered. It was him and Daine, and nothing else.

But it couldn't have lasted. He moved at a run to the courtyard, passing residence and refugee tents, and found Daine standing with Jon, Thayet, and George in the center of the castle. They were listening to a report from a shimmering ball of mage-fire, obviously sent by someone on the walls. Coming closer, he recognized Alanna's voice, fast and urgent.

"Scores of them, Jon, more than before. Stormwings, hurroks, and monkeys in the air. Wyverns too. Spidrens and killer unicorns on the ground. Possibly centaurs. They're everywhere, organized army-style, but I can't – I can't see who's commanding them – the monkeys have used their damn fog over the back. They must be hiding their real power."

"And sheer force of numbers isn't enough," Jon said sarcastically, paling. He turned to look at Thayet, Daine, and Numair, his face hard.

"We'll fight," Daine said determinedly. "I need my bow. Me'n Numair can take them from the towers, and Tkaa and Kitten can beat back the wyverns. I can get all the animals to help. We can do this."

Jon stared at her for a long moment, before nodding tersely. "Get up to the northwest tower. Alanna is stationed at the northeast. Any foot soldiers, companies of the Own, Riders – they need to be prepared. George, make sure the refugees are somewhere safe, and tell Imrah to keep them under control. We need you for communications and a more cunning fighting style than we tend to have. Myself and the queen - "

"Will fight too," interrupted Thayet forcefully, her eyes flashing.

"Will do what we can," said Jon firmly. "Go."


	23. Attack

Omigod. This chapter was so fun to write. I must have a really sadistic side or something. Enjoy - be ready for a twist! And be prepared for your much-awaited fluff later on. Hope this chapter works like I want it to.

**Adagio to a Wolf** - I hate them too. Maybe that's why I had so much fun killing them here! Thank you!

**Jess** - Oh, that cliffy was nothing. Wait till you read this one. Thank you, I was hoping it was smooth enough to make sense, and didn't seem out of place!

**Fyliwion** - thank you! More fluff is coming your way soon, I promise. Not much here, but the next chapter... -wink-

**Starling Rising **- They're evil, what can we expect? Oh, they will, quite soon, I hope. Thank you very much, that was tough to write - I agree with your point that it had always seemed like Daine would've needed more time to get used to such a big thing in the books.

**Cygnet Shearwater** - thank you! I love nearly-fluff almost more than the real thing. Almost.

**Serilia** - Wow, good job, I'm honored it held your attention so long! Lol, enjoy the fight!

**EDITED**

* * *

Daine pulled her bow back, her breathing coming in fast, rapid gasps. She stood ready, waiting anxiously for the immortals to move. For them to do _anything_, really. The tension in the castle was so thick that it felt like it could be cut with a knife. Daine knew that the relatively calm state of anticipation couldn't last forever – one side was bound to break and attack. It just depended on when. If it was soon enough, Legann would be ready, but if the immortals held back their forces long enough, their soldiers might let down their guard. Perhaps that was what the immortals were waiting for. Daine stretched her arms out, determined not to let that happen.

"Anything new?" Daine asked, turning to Tkaa. The basilisk was staring intently into the distance, with Kitten resolute at his side. Numair, too, was keeping watch with them. Jon and Thayet had originally wanted to put Numair on the walls, to make it easier for him to keep up defensive spells, but the two mages had convinced the monarchs to let them stay together – they worked better as a team, and each tower needed a battle-mage for speaking-spells anyway.

"I haven't sensed any changes," the basilisk replied in his deep, calming voice. Daine nodded; the pounding sense of immortals in her head hadn't changed either. But there was still something different about it – something different that was ever-so-slightly familiar. It was hard to pinpoint, because if she stopped blocking her sense enough to fully let the unusual one through, she'd be flooded with the overpowering sense of the other hundred immortals near them. Turning to Numair, she saw that the mage was absently stroking Kitten, his eyes unfocused. The dragonet looked upset. Numair was muttering something under his breath, none of which Daine could make out. Then he let out a frustrated sigh, tugging on his nose.

"Are you sure you're not tired?" Daine asked, tilting her head. "You've spent all day reading, have to have energy for both speaking spells and a possible attack, _and_ you're keeping up protective spells on the entire castle. That drained you at Pirate's Swoop before."

"The Swoop was different. And I'm not tired. There I was holding off dampeners; it was very _active_ magic. As if I were physically holding something off of the ground. Here I'm just supporting a protective spell that I had already expended energy on to create – it's much more passive."

"Still, maybe you should rest. We can take care of things up here. "

"This is new. _You_ telling _me_ to go rest. Isn't it usually the other way around?"

Daine scowled and opened her mouth to speak again, but Numair put his hand on her lips, silencing her. "We work better as a team, remember? I'm fine."

"Fine," she muttered, conceding. "As long as you don't get drained."

"I'm strong as ever," insisted the mage, turning back to keep watch on the western horizon. Flicking his fingers, he made a small bubble of mage-fire appear in front of him, and he spoke towards it. "Alanna. Nothing's new over here. All the immortals are still unmoving."

"Same over here," came Alanna's voice. "I'm getting frustrated. George and Jon have sent out communications to Gary, Raoul, and Harailt, telling them all to be prepared. We might need help from Corus, Caynn, or the City of the Gods if things don't go well."

"If anything happens at all," Numair said with a sigh. Daine gave a little snort; she could only imagine exactly how frustrated the Lioness was going to get if nothing happened soon. Stories of her infamous temper had reached Daine's ears when she was just a child in Galla, and Daine had seen firsthand on many different occasions exactly what Alanna was like when she was irritated.

"Anything else I need to know?" continued Numair. This was, after all, an obligatory sort of "status check" Jon had initiated between all the commanders – every hour, there was communication.

"Nothing I've heard," reported Alanna, and Daine relaxed slightly, though she forced her mind to stay alert. The immortals wanted them to relax. She couldn't give in.

Before Numair could reply or end the speaking spell, a Stormwing swooped up to the ramparts with a metallic rustle, settling on the stone tower wall. Daine quickly raised her bow, ready to fire, until she recognized the slightly bored expression on his blond-haired face. He yawned, clicking his feathers together.

"Good morning, Rikash," Daine said grumpily, lowering her bow. "If you're not careful, someone's going to shoot you."

"I thank you for your concern," he replied dryly. "I have been commanded to inform you that Stone Tree nation has agreed to fight on your side of this infernal war. If it ever comes to that. _Not _that we'll do anything overly assertive, of course. And pass this message on to your comrades as well, because I really don't feel like talking to all of them. Personal safety is also an issue there."

"Thank you," replied Daine, slightly taken aback by both his words and the odd promptness. She hadn't expected the group of Stormwings to do more than scout or keep watch.

Rikash smiled crookedly, his eyes glinting. "I wish I could say they had agreed out of personal affection. But I assure you, it is only because I convinced Queen Barzha that we still had a debt to repay. Sorry."

"I forgive you," huffed Daine with a grudging grin. Rikash saluted sarcastically, nodded to Numair and Tkaa, then departed, rejoining his nation in the trees.

"I still can't believe you talk to him," muttered Numair skeptically, rubbing his nose.

"You've talked to him too. And you saved his life. When we saw him in Dunlath, I mean."

"Don't remind me. I'm starting to regret it now that I actually know how annoying he is. Popping in and out so quickly like that?"

"Oh, be quiet," ordered Daine, but she was smiling. Kitten gave a resigned little whistle, and Daine frowned, kneeling in front of the dragonet. "What's wrong, Kit?"

Tkaa answered for her. "She, like you, does not like the sense the immortals are giving off. She can tell that something bad will happen when the yellow fog vanishes."

Daine looked at Kit carefully, her heart bursting to comfort the young dragon somehow. But she didn't know any more about their enemies than anyone else. She couldn't find the right words to say. She enveloped Kit into a hug, stood up, and placed the dragonet on her shoulder. "We'll do the best we can, Kit, I promise."

"Mithros, Mynoss, and Shakith," Numair muttered, his voice tense. Daine whipped her head up, worried. Suddenly Numair shouted, and around the entire castle Daine could hear other voices yelling commands and orders. "_Everyone at ready_!" In a smooth, rapid motion, Numair opened a speaking spell with Onua, telling her to look up and get ready.

"I'm doing my best!" came Onua's strained yell from the front of one of the ground groups. "We can't see them through the woods yet. But we can feel them. The ground's vibrating. There has to be over three hundred of them, Numair - "

"Hold your ground, or pull back a little closer to the castle. Without aid from Corus, Caynn, or the City yet, we just have to survive the first attack," Numair said, gritting his teeth. Daine glanced from him to the specks on the ground that were Onua's Riders, and then back up to the oncoming immortals. The yellow fog was still hovering distinctly at the back of their group, hiding their secret weapon. The immortals in the air flew closer in an organized line. Now Daine, too, could feel the thundering through the walls that meant that all the spidrens, centaurs, and unicorns were approaching too - a double threat. Land and air at the same time. Quickly Daine threw out her wild magic along with a touch of her will.

_Take cover! _she screamed in her mind, forcing images of bloody-clawed Stormwings into all the animals' mind. Small birds and rodents immediately dashed into holes or nests, adhering to both her request and the power of her will, but the larger animals – foxes, hawks, badgers - stayed out and demanded that they wanted to help. At first, Daine tried to force them into hiding as well, but she soon remembered the Swoop – the animals could help. And it would take her far less energy to let them help, instead of trying to force them back. The enemy immortals didn't have camps full of food to ruin, or horses to set free, but the People could still wreak havoc in their own ways. _Fine_, she said, getting to as many animals as possible. _But do not forget. They are dangerous. They will kill your nestlings and your litters. You _must_ be careful._

All the animals promised to look after themselves, and Daine left them to their work, cutting off her wild magic temporarily. It was easier to block the senses of immortals that way. And though the thought pained her, she wouldn't get distracted by a slight pang if one of the People died.

For a brief moment the castle hung in silence, and Daine glanced over to meet Numair's dark eyes. She could see her own fear and determination reflected in them, along with an intense sort of worry she had come to recognize quite often. _He cares about me_, she thought, almost idly. But she'd known that for years. Why did this look so different?

She gave him a short nod, telling him wordlessly that she was ready and would take care of herself. He'd never stop worrying, of course, but he trusted her. Numair nodded in return, and Daine took a deep breath, holding her archer's stance and returning to the horde of immortals.

In just a split second, the immortals were on them, and the castle flared into life. Arrows shot from each yard along the wall, mages threw out blasts from every corner, and commanders screamed orders and charged into battle. Angry screeches deafened Daine's ears. The front line of immortals fell with arrows protruding from their necks, and Daine saw out of the bottom line of her vision the first centaurs, unicorns, and spidrens fall from mage-blasts or swords. The castle descended into complete chaos faster than a hawk could dive.

Daine jumped backward as a hurrok screeched past her, lightly scoring across her collar with sharp silver claws. She quickly put another arrow to her bow and fired, catching it squarely in the heart as it flew out for another attack. Numair shot a spark of glittering black magic at her next arrow, and it collided with a vicious-looking Stormwing and exploded, spattering the walls with thick blood. Daine gritted her teeth and continued firing, a few thoughts repeating in a steady mantra through her mind: _sight. Aim. Fire. Survive. _Kitten screeched along with Tkaa, causing a few attackers to drop and shatter into a million tiny slivers.

"We're going to be beaten by numbers!" Daine gasped, reaching back for arrows she couldn't find. Panicked, she glanced behind her, only to find that her quiver was completely empty. All of her arrows had seemed to disappear in seconds. It was always impossible to keep track of time in a battle.

"Shift!" yelled Numair, throwing up a sparkling shield in front of her, effectively impeding two furious Stormwings. He glanced at Tkaa and Kitten and saw the enemies they were targeting, then rapidly sent bursts of his Gift to the immortals farther back. Daine used the extra few seconds to shift, shaping her body into that of a lithe hawk. Her clothes and bow fell to the ground and she rose, shrieking as loudly as she could. Wind gusted beneath her powerful wings. The exhilaration and freedom of flight almost overtook her completely, and she struggled to focus on the battle at hand and close off her new, hawkish instincts. Veering to the left, Daine slashed at a flying monkey, only to be pounded by a hurrok's wing from behind. She tumbled in the air for a moment, regaining her composure quickly, and dove at the offending immortal, gouging out its glaring eyes with her ferocious talons. In her current form, she couldn't kill very easily, and there was no time to get a new set of arrows, but she could distract and blind her enemies. Black magic, shrill shrieks, and arrows flew around her, and suddenly she was struck by an idea. It was risky and underhanded, but that didn't matter.

Angling her flight, Daine twirled down until she was directly on the back of a large flying monkey, and she dug her talons into its fur, drawing a pained yelp and making her enemy twist and flail in the air. Quick as a flash, she shifted into the comfortable form of a wolf and lashed out with her jaws. Daine sunk her teeth into its neck, feeling the life leave its body with the rush of warm liquid into her mouth. She jumped from it to the back of a passing hurrok, disgusted by the blood dripping from her jaws, and ended its life just as easily. Swiftly she shifted back into a hawk to prevent herself from falling. Blood still coated her beak.

"Good work, Daine!" Daine heard Numair shout over the roars of battle. The man's brief lack of concentration earned him a slash in the shoulder from a Stormwing, and he bent over slightly, grimacing and gripping his shoulder. Daine meant to yell, though only a shrill cry emitted from her beak. She dove towards Numair, but was intercepted by a hurrok who seemed intent on eating her for lunch. She barely missed from its drawn fangs as she swerved away. Before she could find a way to dispatch it, an arrow from one of the nearby archers caught it between the eyes. Daine soared down to Numair, instantly shifting back into her human form. She put her hands on the wound in his shoulder, trying to see if it was as bad as it looked.

"It's just a cut," Numair said, before seemed to notice her current state of undress. "Daine - "

"I know," she said hurriedly, unconcerned, but she grabbed his cloak from his shoulders and wrapped it around herself with one arm, while keeping her other hand on his injured shoulder. "It's bleeding too much, Numair, you should - "

"No, you're hurt," Numair said, gently pressing his fingers to the slashes above her chest. Daine looked down briefly, barely registering the sting and drying blood on her skin, before looking back up at Numair.

"Doesn't matter," she began. "I - "

"Down!" he shouted suddenly, using his good arm to force Daine's head down. He was kneeling on the ground, and Daine fell down beside him, hearing the livid growl of a Stormwing inches above them. Then they heard a shriek and a clatter; someone must have felled the Stormwing. "Rip a piece off the cloak," Numair panted, still on his knees.

Daine nodded and quickly tore strips of cloth from his cloak, pressing them to the wound as hard as she could. A momentary grimace of pain flashed Numair's face. Daine tied the strips around his arm, and immediately Numair stood, swaying only slightly before throwing out more bolts of magic.

"You're going to wear yourself out!" screamed Daine, but Numair didn't stop. Frustrated, she picked up her bow and scrambled to the back of the tower to retrieve a fresh set of arrows – someone must have brought up replacements while she was in animal form. If Numair wasn't going to stop fighting, she'd have to do as much as she could to keep him safe.

Her arm was only just beginning to ache as she fired shot after shot, when all the remaining immortals suddenly fell back, both in the air and on the ground. The battleground cleared in what seemed like second. In just a few moments, every last one of them was gone, safe behind a protective cloud of yellow fog. Carcasses were scattered everywhere. The ground was stained with blood, and soldiers panted or held shaky hands to wounds or hurt comrades. Daine froze, stunned, then remembered Numair's injury and rushed to him. His face was pale, and the makeshift bandage was saturated with blood; the same blood she suddenly realized that she had all over her cut and calloused hands. _Numair's blood._

_No time to think on that,_ she growled at herself, ripping the soaked cloth off Numair's shoulder and quickly rewrapping it. "Immortals are gone, I'll get you to the infirmary - "

"Wait – Daine! Look!" Numair said suddenly, his voice low and urgent. His eyes were focused somewhere behind her. Daine turned her head.

The yellow fog created by the flying monkeys was slowly dissipating, revealing even more hordes of fresh immortals. Those fresh from battle were there, too. In and around Legann, everyone from the soldiers on the ground to each archer and mage on the walls stared anxiously at the slowly appearing horizon. Finally, the last section of the fog vanished, exposing something in the very center of the immortal horde that Daine never thought she'd see. She gasped, horrified, as an earsplitting roar rang throughout the bloody fields.

A fully grown, enormous, furious dragon reared at the back of the army. Sunlight flashed blindingly off its deep red scales and silvery claws. Its wings unfurled menacingly from its back, spreading wide and imposing, and its vicious tail swung from side to side in fury. Powerful legs pounded against the ground, vivid eyes sparkled, and an intense sense of pure, uninhibited _strength_ emanated from the dragon's very presence. After just a split second, the fog blew over again, shielding the beast from view and cutting off of its vicious war cry. Daine's mind froze, her eyes flew to Numair's, and then she flashed her gaze to Kitten. The dragonet screeched in dismay and realization. Tkaa's eyes were wide. Daine looked back at Numair, her mouth open slightly, filled with an awful fear.


	24. Love

Here it is. The moment you've all been waiting for. I will say no more - I hope I didn't screw it up too awfully. It was just tough to get anywhere close to right, because I just loved the way TP did it - the best part of her books, and not just because it's an awesome couple. She really wrote it well, and this is my pathetic imitation. Oh, and I do something I don't usually like to - I change POVs at an awkward point in the middle of a scene, so sorry if it doesn't flow right, but I really wanted to write both Numair and Daine's POV.

**Horseluvr13 and purple smurfs r real** - Muahaha. I'm so evil. Unfortunately, this doesn't do much to clear up the cliffhanger... One advantage of fanfic over books, it's a lot easier to skip a few hours xD

**Lizzy** - Lol, thank you, I've always loved Rikash, I'm glad you thought he was portrayed well

**Fyliwion and Cygnet Shearwater** - thank you! The first real long fighting scene, so at least it was decent, though I think scenes like this -pokes below- are much harder D

**xxTunstall Chickxx** - Lol, no, she is definitely not still naked. She grabbed Numair's cloak (like always) and covered herself. But besides, all Numair really saw were her injuries, because he's sweet like that D -hugs him-

**Starling Rising** - Hehe, I knew I needed something "bigger" than just humans vs. immortals war. So I had originally thought to introduce something new, like a chimera or zombies or something crazy, but I thought that'd just be too weird; it wouldn't flow right. And then I realized that I could get a dragon in there, and it'd be perfect - big scary enemy, and also a lot of emotion involved, with Kitten and all.

**Jess **- Rofl, that's okay! My computer spazzes sometimes too, it's awfully slow. And I love your oneshot, btw, I already told you that. xD Thank you, I hope you like this chapter!

**Serilia** - I'm so mean to our favorite little mages. They'll make it through, I'll tell you that - but I can't say at what cost. -dumdumdum- As for how they'll defeat the dragon... you'll just have to see! I will say though that it won't be gods. I don't like divine intervention. It's unreliable! Graveyard Hag as evidence.

**EDITED**

* * *

Daine stared blankly at the pages of the book, uncomprehending, her mind still full of the vision of the rearing, furious dragon only leagues away from the castle. She hated herself for being stuck down in the dusty library again. She should be _fighting_ somehow. But at the moment, there was nothing to fight. And no one knew how to combat a dragon, anyway – the entire castle was terrified, and was using this brief pause in battle to do whatever they could do prepare for the dragon's inevitable, full-blown attack. It was clear that the dragon was the commander of the immortal army, and it was using tactics any commander would: attack and weaken your opponent, then pull back to instill a sense of fear that will make them even more vulnerable for the next attack. Legann didn't have long to prepare.

On her part, Daine couldn't stop thinking about Kitten. She cradled the sniffling dragonet tightly in her arms. The only other dragon Kit had ever met was her mother, and that had been for a very brief amount of time. _Now the next dragon she meets is her enemy,_ Daine thought miserably. Even Daine herself couldn't hate the dragon, despite its obviously violent intentions. It was too much like Kitten – intelligent, strong, and a part of the People.

"Still awake?" came a strained voice from beside her. Daine jumped slightly, too caught up in her own thoughts. She glanced sideways at Numair.

"Yes," she murmured, flicking her eyes back to the old tome. It was heavy and covered in dust, just like the rest of the dark chairs and shelves in the dungeon-like library below the fort. Absentmindedly, she fingered the fresh bandages around her neck as she read. _Dragons hold secrets that no humans have ever come close to discovering… the power a single dragon yields is enough to destroy entire villages… in ancient legends, a kind dragon's wingspan could stretch across oceans, giving travelers a safe way across treacherous waters…._

Numair rustled a scroll with his good arm, and Daine sighed, the words leaking out of her mind. She didn't see why the king and queen had wanted their two strongest mages to do the research about dragons rather than help out above ground, but she hoped the king had his reasons. If an advantage over dragons existed, it would be written down somewhere in the massive collection of scrolls and books in underground Legann, and that advantage could decide the fate of Tortall. "Nothing," she muttered, setting the book aside and picking up another one.

Kitten gave a sad whimper and slipped from Daine's lap, curling around the legs of the chair, her scales a miserable gray. Daine slid off the chair too, bending on her knees and carefully touching Kit's forehead.

"I'm so sorry, Kit," she murmured, stroking the young dragon's head. "You must be so tired. Go to the kitchen and get some food to build up your strength, then rest, okay? Stay with Tkaa, or Onua, if you wish."

Kitten nodded sullenly, rising slowly to her paws and padding out of the room. Daine stood watching her, hovering on the edge of going with the dragonet. She didn't want her Kit to be alone.

"She's getting more independent by the day," Numair said, a little sadly.

"It's like our little baby is growing up," replied Daine, sinking slowly back into her chair. Numair smiled halfheartedly and rubbed her shoulder.

"She'll still be an infant as long as we live, don't worry. Look here. '_Dragons live for hundreds upon hundreds of years, their childhood and adolescence extending for at least ten centuries.'_"

Daine tried to smile. She couldn't bring herself to really be cheered. Too much fear hung thickly in the air. Numair watched her, clearly concerned, while Daine grabbed another book at random and flipped through it, looking for something – _anything_ - that could help them defeat the dragon. No words caught her eye, and she could still feel Numair's intense gaze. She lifted her eyes to his, and he raised his eyebrows a little, a wordless question. _Are you okay?_

Sighing, Daine leaned back in the chair as much as she could. It was a dreadful attempt at looking relaxed. "I'm fine," she lied out of habit, though part of her knew that Numair could see right through her. No one was "fine" in Tortall right now, not when everyone's lives hung at stake.

"We'll make it through," said Numair, trying to sound reassuring. The man leaned back and looked at the ceiling. He winced as his shoulder hit the edge of the chair. The healing and the bandages hadn't completely healed Numair's injury, because the healers had to conserve as much energy as they could so that as many people as possible could stay alive. The healers had no strength to spare. Daine hadn't been able to get any healing; only bandages, and Numair had received the bare minimum to keep him from losing too much blood. So now his shoulder was going to be bandaged and sore. Daine knew it must be an awful inconvenience.

"Right," Daine said skeptically. "You know exactly what's going to happen."

Numair was silent for a moment, then sat back and met her eyes again, serious now. "No, I don't know. But I know you and everyone here at Legann. Alanna will never give up. Onua will never give up. The king and queen will never give up. No one here is ever going to stop trying."

"That doesn't mean we'll survive," Daine argued. She was suddenly aware of her temper beginning to rise. She didn't know _why_ she suddenly felt so irritated. Just remembering how anguished Kitten had looked when she had seen the dragon – her kin – made a spark of something boil furiously through Daine's veins. It was directed at Numair, at the immortals, at _anyone_. Leaping from her chair, her voice rose angrily without her mind's consent. "Don't treat me like a child. I know war, and I know death, Numair! Just because we're _trying_ doesn't mean that a lucky Stormwing or a gods-cursed _dragon_ couldn't kill Alanna, or Onua, or - "

"Daine!" Numair interrupted fiercely, grabbing her wrist. "Daine, I know. I know that better than anyone. I do not deny that any of us – _all _of us – could be killed. That's the truth of war. But I am telling you another truth as well: if we all gave up, we _would_ be killed – and I'm saying that at least we stand a chance. We have traveled through the Black God's realms and back again and come out in one piece, and it's possible that we could do it again."

Fuming, Daine stayed quiet, her breathing coming rapidly and her emotions battling inside her. Part of her wanted to growl and rip her arm out of Numair's grasp, fury bubbling up inside her heart. But the dark calm in his eyes soothed her; she sat back down, closing her eyes briefly and letting the anger dissipate. "Sorry," she said quietly.

"It's all right."

Opening her eyes, Daine took a calming breath before looking back up at Numair. "I'm just - I'm just scared, Numair."

"So am I. Only a fool wouldn't be scared."

"But I'm not afraid of the dragon, or the immortals, really," she said, struggling to form words that could describe her mess of thoughts and feelings. "Well, I am. It's scary fighting them, I suppose. But that I can deal with. I'm scared that someone will get hurt."

Numair nodded. He reached out and took her hand. His palm was warm around hers, and Daine felt a sudden tightening in her heart. It was different than the fear she was used to, different than her current anxiety. When she'd come to Tortall, it'd been Numair – Numair and Onua – that had restored her trust and faith in humans. What would happen to her now, if that all went away?

"I'm not scared of dying, either," Daine murmured. "I'm scared that I'll lose everything I have here. I'm scared that I'll lose Kit, and Cloud, or Onua, or Alanna - "

Daine stopped mid-sentence, her heat beating fast. She needed him to understand.

"I'm scared I'll lose you."

* * *

Numair's mind froze, her words seeming to resonate in his head, though she had spoken them very softly. Unconsciously, his hand moved to her cheek, his fingers brushing lightly against her skin. It seemed like ages had passed since they had been sitting in almost exactly the same place, trying to find information about Daine's da - when in reality, it had only been about half a day. Numair could still remember the feel of Daine's arms around him, and the kind of _spark_ that had lit the air. It was there again. Numair knew that this could be their last chance for a moment of peace together. And he hated that he couldn't reassure her; he couldn't comfort her, because he had no way of knowing if he _would_ survive.

The silence held until Numair lost track of how long it had been; it could have been a few seconds, or it could have been hours. A tear slid down Daine's cheek, and Numair brushed it away, his frozen mind suddenly spinning into overdrive. He remembered a gleam he'd seen in Alanna's eyes once when they spoke of Daine, he remembered Onua's words: _"She cares a lot about you, Numair. Talk to her."_ But more than that he remembered Daine, clinging to him in the desert, gently kissing his cheek, and smiling at the sight of him like it was the only thing she ever wanted to see.

And before he knew what he was doing, he leaned forward, tilting her face up a little and brushing his lips across hers like it was something he did every day.

But within a second, all his senses came rushing back. His heartbeat rose rapidly; he started to pull away, terrified that he had just destroyed the most important relationship he'd ever had. Terrified that he'd hurt her.

But Daine's arms had, at some point, slid around his neck. She pulled him close, bringing their lips together again while still carefully avoiding his hurt arm. Numair's heart exploded at her touch, a thousand different emotions soaring into life in just a split second. It was like a tidal wave rushing through his veins; a fire burning inside him. Love, fear, hope, and desire all swamped him. He moved his arms around Daine's back, cradling her against his chest as their lips moved smoothly, perfectly together. In a breathless moment, she pulled away with a long breath to fill tired lungs. Her cheeks were pink; her powerful eyes were bright. Numair looked at her, stunned, completely unsure of what to say or do.

She buried her face in his good shoulder, her body moving in tandem with her deep breaths and the tears straying silently from her eyes. Numair pressed his lips to her hair, rubbing her back and trying to control his raging mind. He had _kissed_ her – Daine, his student, his closest friend. His _everything._ He had lost his control for just one moment. But now she was still letting him hold her, still crying – still trusting him with her vulnerability.

She was still his magelet. Despite their ages, despite everything, she was still the same.

"Daine?" he asked hesitantly, a part of him still worried. She didn't reply, but simply clung to him all the more fiercely, and so Numair too tightened his grip as much as he could around her, running his hands over her hair. "Daine…."

"I'm sorry," she said at last, loosening her arms slightly and sliding onto his lap. She rested her head on his chest. "I didn't mean to do that."

"Do what?"

"Kiss you. Or cry. I'm sorry."

"You aren't doing much to rectify your mistake," he teased lightly. Again she didn't respond. Heart burning, Numair took her chin so he could look at her face for some sort of an answer. Her expression was not blank, but nor was it readable, however well he knew her. "Are you crying out of happiness?" he asked cautiously.

Now a shadow of a smile twitched at the corner of her lips. "Happiness and sadness. Both. But not just both. I don't know. I'm - I'm happy and sad."

"You can be both at the same time?"

"Yes," she said stubbornly. She slid her arms from around his neck and closed her hands tightly around the fabric of his shirt. "I'm happy because I have you, but I'm sad because… that makes me even more scared, in some ways."

"You're scared that it would hurt you too much, if something were to happen to me."

She nodded, and Numair could see the truth shining in her eyes. Sighing, he hugged her close, not knowing anything else he could do. He ran one hand through her hair and let the other trace slow circles over her back as her face pressed into his shoulder again.

"I won't leave you," he murmured. "You know that I can't guarantee that I will always be here. Too much is outside of my control. But I will always do everything in my power to stay by you. Don't be afraid."

He felt her nod. She shifted a little and placed an open hand over his heart. "Do you love me?" she asked quietly.

It was a simple statement; a yes-or-no question. He couldn't see her face as she asked it. She was still lying against him with her head on his shoulder. Numair knew his answer - he had known it for ages. It had overwhelmed his mind for days, occupied his thoughts for hours, melted into his life until it was all he could do to resist it. But for some reason, a sudden cold rushed through him at the thought of putting it into words. He didn't want to risk this, not when it was already so miraculous that Daine wasn't pushing him away altogether. How could he possibly _say_ what was in his heart, anyway? Daine shifted in his arms, looking up at him, and Numair knew he had to say something. _The truth._

"Yes," he said simply, pushing a few strands of hair behind her ear. "More than you know. Do you love me?"

"I think so," she said.

Numair's heart fluttered. Had he made a terrible mistake? What if she turned out _not_ to love him? Perhaps she simply _believed_ she was in love, when the emotion wasn't really there. Perhaps she was only upset, caught up in the moment. Could anything ever be right between them again?

But Daine wasn't finished. There was something in her tone was definitive, certain, and honest. "If love is when you care so much about someone you always want to be near them, and would do anything for them, and when you can't imagine them being gone…."

She bit her lip, looking up at him with a questioning gaze. "You love me?" she asked again.

He could tell her question was more than just a repetition. She was asking if this was real, if he was sure, if it was worth the risk. And part of Numair's mind still screamed that _nothing_ was worth losing their trust in each other, for how could either of them ever be so sure?

_Everything changes,_ he argued. It was time for them to try, to jump off of the ledge they'd hovered on for so long. Free fall was both exhilarating and dangerous, whether you knew what was below you or not.

Numair leaned forward, held her face between his hands, and kissed her gently, feeling his pulse quicken as she responded to his touch. Her breath was sweet on his tongue, and through the whirl of emotions he could just imagine the looks on Alanna's, Onua's, and Thayet's faces if they knew. Numair pulled away from her, smiling tiredly as he remembered the work they still had to do. Daine's forehead rested against his, and Numair sighed.

"We still have a violent dragon to defeat."

Daine sighed too, but didn't move. Her eyes fluttered closed. "I know."

"Do you think we should start reading again?"

"No."

The corner of Numair's lips twitched in a smile as Daine curled up stubbornly in his lap. Another long moment of silence passed. As much as he wanted to agree with her, he knew they still had their duties, and he was starting to speak again when Daine interrupted him.

"Can I stay here?"

"We can't _leave_ here until we've found something to help us against the dragon or we get attacked again."

"No, I mean here, here," she said, shifting a little in his arms and looking up at him imploringly. Numair considered her with a raised eyebrow, his heart expanding with an infectious sense of elation even while such impending danger hung over them.

"Of course," he said, wanting any excuse to be near her. He had just to flip through the pages of another book when he looked down and realized Daine had curled up in his arms, breathing slowly. Numair frowned, knowing very well that no one, not even an exhausted wildmage, could fall asleep _that_ fast. He tapped her on the forehead, earning him a glare from one stormy blue eye.

"I apologize," he said with an innocent grin, handing her an old book. "You can't escape your duties that easily, sweetling."

Daine grumbled and snatched the book, sitting up a little so she could read more comfortably. Numair laughed slightly, kissing her nose and making a slight blush rise in her cheeks, but she smiled and starting reading, leaning her head on his chest. Numair turned his eyes to the pages of his book, forcing himself to concentrate. But before immersing himself in his studies, he found the time to send a quick prayer of thanks up to the gods. In the midst of one the hardest battles he'd ever took part in, he had found peace in his magelet – his student, his friend, his love.


	25. Thoughts

Another REALLY long chapter! I'm not really loving it, but I think it'll get better... Writing them newly hooked up is so hard, bleh. So enjoy this, and remember, school has started again so sorry in advance for a possible lag in updates.

**twilight1650, megchelle, angelic-ninja, Adagio to a Wolf** - thank you guys so much, I'm glad you liked it!

**Horseluvr13** - thank you! And no, most definitely not the end, and most definitely a big battle coming up.

**Jess** - Woot, my favorite moment, always. She needed reassurance, and thankfully, Numair did the right thing for once! Thank you!

**Serilia** - Yayyy! Aww, yes, evil dragons, unless they're Kit. Don't worry, they'll be plenty of Numair/Daine fluff now, I think mortal danger will help Numair get past his weird sense of honor and help them open up to each other, etc... which is why the dragon is helpful!

**silverflight8** - thank you! Muahaha, I hope it's surprising, though it's hard to come up with something both plausible and unique. I think it's specifics that make the difference.

**.111** - thank you so much, it was tough though! Lol, that's fine, it's just good to know people are reading!

**Starling Rising** - I wish I could have done a he-rescues-her-and-loses-control thing, cause I just _melt _for that, and it fits better, but TP did that, so I tried something different. Thank you!!

**xxTunstall Chickxx** - Rofl, you worded that well, I think; that was almost exactly what I was thinking xD

**purple smurfs r real** - It'll get worked out, they're taking another step towards it here. Battle comes and goes, and it'll come soon!

**EDITED  
**

* * *

"The troops from Corus and Caynn are out," Jon reported, heaving a sigh. "And the mages from the City. Finally."

"Where exactly are they?" Onua asked, bending over the intricate map. She was glad to be included in these conferences with Thayet, Jon, and Alanna. Then again, as the perceived "commander" of all the foot soldiers and mounted fighters, including her Riders and the Own, she supposed she didn't have any choice. They were all, once again, in the dank underground rooms, with candles and mage-fire providing the only light. It was the only place in the entire castle that they could count on privacy, even with Alanna's guard-spells.

Jon pointed to a inked mark between what looked like two sets of hills. A valley would give soldiers protection, but also was a slight tactical disadvantage during fights - especially against opponents in the air. Like a dragon. "Here," the king said, before moving his finger. "Here. And here."

"Good spots," Onua murmured, leaning back and studying the map. It was a brilliant tactical map, with many symbols and keys to show the landscape and troops. And yet Onua didn't know how much placing and planning could really help in the long run.

"Where are Raoul and Gary?" asked Alanna, sounding concerned. George glanced at her and rubbed her shoulder.

"And Buri?" put in Thayet.

"Raoul is leading the eastern party. Buri is with him, I believe. Harailt heads the mages. The western party is being led by Sir Rocelin. Gary wanted to lead it, but I need him at the castle. He told me off for that; saying he'd still been keeping in shape and would be as good on the field as anyone." Jon sighed, his face strained as he rubbed his forehead. Onua's heart twanged in sympathy for him; war was hard on even the strongest of friendships. "It's awful enough with everyone here in such direct danger. The immortals are obviously targeting Legann more than anywhere else, and now I had to put _more_ of my friends in danger by asking them to come fight with us. I couldn't ask Gary to come too. I wanted him to stay with the children."

The man shot a look up at Thayet, whose carefully calm face cracked for just a moment, her pain and worry visible in the premature lines on her forehead. "I'm glad," she said kindly. "Too many people are trapped here at Legann. We need Gary at home."

Jon and Alanna nodded at the same time, and the king started rolling up the maps. "When the immortals attack again, we attack in return," he explained. "The other troops will aid us. We're just trying to survive until we can find a way to win. It's the most we can do, and at this point, there's no hope of aid from other countries."

Everyone's faces were set in identical grim lines. Onua watched silently as, one by one, everyone around the table rose and compulsively straightened their clothes. "I'm going to make sure the children are out of trouble," Alanna said nonchalantly, but there was clearly emotion behind her words. George went with her out the door, leaving Jon and Thayet, who fell back into their chairs.

"Why'd you stand up in the first place?" Onua asked, trying to grin. Thayet returned an equally forced smile.

"I guess I just didn't know what else do to," she sighed anxiously. "I just haven't been thinking right lately."

Onua understood perfectly. The stress they were under left little room for any other thoughts. "I'll go find Daine and Numair, and see if they know anything about that gods-cursed dragon," she said, rising from her chair. Jon nodded wearily.

"Tell me when you find them," asked Thayet.

"Of course," Onua promised, then left, hoping fervently that she'd find good news, or some sort of information, at least. Anything was better than waiting like a helpless colt for the dragon to swoop in and pick them off – with all of them powerless to stop it.

* * *

Hours passed before Daine and Numair finally got through every book or scroll on the Pre-Human Era and dragons. They had found only little things; little bits of information about dragons or their world. Nothing that would ensure their victory. Too much was still held up to chance. Numair sighed in exhaustion, leaning back and ignoring the subsequent throb of pain in his shoulder. _Alanna's going to flay me if I keep on straining it,_ he thought idly to himself.

Tightening his strong arm around Daine's sleeping form, he put off the moment when he knew he'd have to wake her and proceed up to the world again. In the cool, dry air of Legann's dungeons, everything seemed frozen and peaceful. Absently he brushed a stray piece of hair away from her forehead, only to let it fall back again just a moment later. Noises from above echoed vaguely in their little cavern. Letting his mind wander, Numair momentarily forgot the war, the dragon, and everything that came along with it. It felt like the only people in the world were himself and Daine – together.

Had it really happened? One moment she was shouting at him, and the next, it was all different. Had she just been scared and needed some sort of comfort? Was he just the person that happened to be available at the time? His mind tormented him with thoughts of Daine awaking, embarrassed or angry, and determined to keep her distance from him. _No,_ Numair thought firmly, driving the images away. _She may be young, but she is sensible. She would talk it out. We _will_ talk it out._

_But that still wouldn't soften the blow._

And what if she didn't feel that way? Part of him wondered how she could really _know_ if she were in love, as young as she was. But the look in her eyes had convinced him she was making a decided, conscious decision, not influenced by fear or a harmless infatuation. Her gaze had been so sure. But they hadn't yet questioned anything. They would have to, at some point. They would have to decide what they were. Knowing their lives as servants of the kingdom, time for them would always be rushed and limited. If their love had come about as a byproduct of a stressful war, then what would become of them afterward?

_We will think about that when the time comes,_ Numair decided at last. Watching the last candle melt down into a puddle of shining wax, he knew there was more ahead of them than either of them could possibly imagine. In their lives, in their futures, in their dreams.

* * *

_A dark silence settled inside Daine's mind, and a feeling of warmth wrapped around her body. It was vastly different than the cold fear she had grown used to. She felt caught in a sort of limbo between one place and another, and she couldn't tell which side was home. She let herself float in the middle, waiting for something to happen. Sparkling lights glittered in the blackness around her. It reminded her of Numair's magic. The thought comforted her, and her mind carefully sorted through her array of confused thoughts and memories._

_She knew she loved him. Of that much, she was sure. But everything else was a hazy shade of grey; whether or not he loved her, and what they were going to do during and after the war. It was too much to think about. Yet she trusted Numair - even if she didn't trust herself. He would never intentionally harm her. She couldn't make herself believe he was playing with her. She could believe that, possibly, for some miraculous reason, Numair loved her. But she couldn't truly know until more time had passed. And that time would pass as it always did, never stopping or allowing her to catch up. She knew they would make it through together, as they always had. Somehow. The black magic reminding her so strongly of her teacher wove around her body and tickled at her skin, soft and familiar._

_Suddenly her dream shifted; the feeling of Numair's Gift faded until she stood at a scene that sparked something in her memory. Scraggly trees stretched sharp and broken limbs high into the sky. On flat, dusty ground near where Daine stood, there were the crumbling ruins of a castle, barely passing for more than a pile of rubble and debris. Looking around, Daine somehow recognized the place – it was Legann. But it was different. So drastically different that it was hardly even familiar. Fields that were once fertile and rich had been sown through with salt and lay barren; dense forests were reduced to pitiful stumps and shrubbery. A cold wind blew from the east, scattering pebbles across the ruined castle, and bringing a salty tang that caused Daine to whip around and face the sea. The air was salty, but it didn't have the soft tang of the ocean and wildlife. It was darker. Daine watched in horror as red waves hit the shore thickly, breaking slowly with sickening splashes. _

_The sea had turned to blood._

_

* * *

_Numair held Daine tightly, resigning himself to the fact that he'd have to wake her soon. Her head rested on his shoulder while one of her hands was folded inside his, a small fist that was completely covered by Numair's large palm. Her hair flew in every direction, and it carried with it the scent that Numair had come to love, of musk and hay and light soaps. Before Numair could make himself wake her, Daine shifted suddenly in his arms and her eyes opened. She took a few deep breaths and didn't say anything, her eyes troubled. At the same time, Numair heard a familiar voice calling softly from the staircase outside.

"Are you dolts still awake down there?" The door opened quietly, revealing the worried face of Onua as the horsemistress poked her head inside. "If you two got any information - "

She stopped immediately when she caught sight of them. Numair shot her a pleading glance, and wide-eyed, Onua nodded and shut the door soundlessly. Looking down, Numair realized that Daine hadn't moved, and an inexplicable feeling of relief washed over him. He didn't want everyone else aware of them just yet – especially when it was still so unclear exactly what they were. At least Onua could be trusted to keep her mouth shut until they'd talked. Numair titled Daine's face up to meet her eyes, concerned. "Magelet?"

"Nightmare," she muttered, flicking her eyes to the ground. "I'm okay."

Numair decided not to press, instead letting her slide off his lap and on to the dust-coated floor. She started to pick up books at random, place them onto shelves, and roll up the scattered scrolls neatly. She kept her gaze down. Silence hung thickly in the air until Numair couldn't stand it any longer.

"Look at me?" he asked at last, after what felt like hours since she had left his arms.

She stopped and met his eyes, smiling apologetically. "Sorry."

"It's okay," he replied gently. He stood to help her clear up the mess they had made. "Daine," he began, even though each word was like a thorn in his heart. "If – if you don't want to - "

"No," she interrupted firmly. "Please don't - apologize, or wish it all away. Please."

Numair nodded, unable to think of anything else to do. If he had tried to say it was a mistake, or he hadn't meant to, or didn't want to, he would have been lying anyway, and Daine could always see straight through even his most carefully constructed fabrications.

"We can talk after all this is over, can't we?" she stated calmly. "If we really need to. This is enough for now, isn't it?" She reached over and gently brushed her hand against his, making Numair's skin to tingle. On impulse, he took her hand and squeezed it, rubbing his fingers over the rough archer's calluses on her palms.

"Of course," he agreed, hardly able to believe that she still seemed so calm. His own heart was dancing in his chest. Daine hesitated for a second, then stood on her toes to press a short kiss to his lips, her hand still folded inside of his.

Before Numair could move, Onua appeared to not be able to put off her business for any longer. A loud knock echoed through the dungeon-room, making Daine and Numair jump apart and scramble to appear like they had been going about normal, teacher-student activities. Numair snatched a book and leaned against the table; Daine bent to pick up a dropped lantern. Onua strode into the room.

"Found anything?" she said slowly, her sharp eyes never leaving Numair's face. Numair cringed, recognizing the look at once.

"Nothing," answered Daine. "Nothing too important, anyway. Just little things."

Onua nodded, and flicked her gaze to Daine. "Kitten's up with Alanna, George, and the kids. She's still looking sad; not even Alan's whistling will cheer her up."

Immediately Daine bit her lip and turned towards the door, pausing with her hand on the handle and glancing at Numair. Her eyes were cloudy; there was nothing Numair could read in them. She whipped around and was out of sight. The moment she was gone, Numair deflated into the chair. He knew he'd need mental preparation for Onua's inevitable onslaught of questions.

But the horsemistress simply stared at him carefully for a long moment. Numair cracked open one eye, watching her warily. To his relief, she smiled slightly and shook her head. "You owe me," she said at last, but with a much more cheerful tone than Numair had expected. "I am going to walk out of here and pretend like I never saw anything. I won't tell Thayet or Alanna either. And _you_ are going to tell me when you're ready."

"Thank you," he breathed. "You are the most gods-blessed, wonderful woman I have ever - "

She grinned and held up a hand, interrupting him mid-sentence. "Don't make the gods angry now, not in the middle of this war. Think about what you're saying?"

"Well. You are still very near the top of the list," amended Numair. He hugged her briefly in thanks before she waved him away and headed out the door.

"You'd better get up soon, too, Numair, and tell Jon anything you know."

Numair started to nod wearily, then realized it didn't matter, as Onua had already left the room. He waited a moment before following her. Out in the open again, Numair was nearly blinded by the bright sunlight and blinked for about a minute to try and get his gaze adjusted. So much had happened in the few hours he had spent underground that it seemed like ages since he had been in fresh air and light.

"Report, Numair?"

It was Jon. Numair turned to his king, catching sight of Thayet and Onua behind him. Onua's face was carefully calm and expressionless. In the distance, Numair could see Daine with Kitten and Alanna's children, and for a moment, he forgot what he had been about to say.

"Numair?"

"Sorry," he said quickly, his mind flicking back to the present. "We didn't find much. Dragons are - formidable. Like anything that flies, they are susceptible to arrows, but their tough hide makes it impossible for anything other than magically enhanced crossbow bolts to do them significant harm. And unlike most immortals, dragons are astonishingly intelligent. Because of the stores of knowledge passed down from generation to generation, their intellects are far greater than that of any human. It is also due, in part, to their longevity – they are immortal, just like many in the Divine Realms, but unlike the masses, they do not generally seek conflict just for the sake of it. So they survive, while many others are killed in violent skirmishes. Which makes it all the more unusual that this dragon has sought out a battle. It will learn our strategies and only then choose the best way to attack. It'll be like fighting a brilliant general - who also happens to have a massive, dangerous army and is nearly invincible."

"Well, that was a very long-winded way of saying we're done for," muttered Alanna.

"If they're so invincible, what can we do?" asked Jon.

"We survive," Numair replied flatly. It was the best plan he could come up with. "If no more immortals are coming through the hole, then if we can get rid of the majority of them, it'll be easier to take on the dragon alone. With additional troops-"

"We have three other groups surrounding the immortals that can attack when needed."

"Good. We can take out the immortals and then have the dragon on it's own. It'll still be hard, but we won't have annoyances to deal with then."

"Annoyances," muttered Thayet, shaking her head. "Goddess. How did a dragon even _get_ here? The last one took dozens of mages, didn't it? And it was younger and smaller, too. And why is it attacking? It's smart enough to not follow anyone blindly and we didn't do anything to harm it."

"Kitten's mother was forcibly pulled from behind an intact barrier, as was every immortal at that time. Every immortal needed to be pulled to this world by magic. In this case, Ozorne's hole in the barrier is big enough for a dragon to come through, along with the massive amounts of immortals. No other hole has ever been big enough for immortals to pass through without a mage's assistance. As for the motives?" Numair sighed, wishing he knew all the answers. "Perhaps it's just a pent-up desire to fight. Perhaps it wants Kitten."

"All that matters is that we're going to be killed if we don't do anything," Onua said fiercely. "I'll go get some of the archers armed with crossbows, and leave the rest with their longbows. I think we should attack the immortal army, leaving the dragon defenseless, instead of waiting for it and the next wave. Maybe it'd be easier if the dragon were alone."

"I agree," Jon nodded. "Go. Speak to Raoul, Harailt, and Rocelin and tell them to get ready as well. We'll attack as one."

"I want to fight as well," Numair said as Onua walked away, shouting orders.

"Your shoulder - " began Jon.

" - is fine," finished Numair, shrugging and only feeling a slight throb. "Jon, you know very well that no one else has the magical power to even have a _chance_ at stopping that dragon. And perhaps Daine can talk to it as well."

The king paused a moment, then nodded sharply. "Don't get yourself killed, Numair."

"I'll try," the mage promised. Jon accepted his words and waved him off. Numair didn't envy the king's current position – having to send one's friends into a deadly battle must be one of the hardest things he could ever imagine.

The castle was flying into life around him. People passed in every direction, with horses and weapons and grim expressions. Quickening his pace, Numair made his way across the courtyard towards the place where he'd seen Daine, out in front of the infirmary. His heart throbbed as he realized something. They had finally made a plan to combat the dragon. They had a strategy – to fell its army, and then use Daine's wild magic coupled with Numair's power to subdue it, if that became absolutely necessary. Such a simple, barely discussed plan – and yet it could be the deciding factor in the entire war. More than anything, Numair wanted Daine to stay safe. Perhaps he could convince to her stay underground, let him fight alone, instead –

No. She would never consent to do that. It was one of the things he loved about her, yet it also caused him incomprehensibly large amounts of anxiety. But Daine was vital to the fight. Only she had the chance of communicating with the dragon if they could find the opportunity; perhaps they could solve things peacefully. And she was vital to him. After everything they'd been through – and especially now - Numair didn't think he'd ever be able to fight without her at his side. _Come, my little magelet,_ he thought wearily. _We have_ _to go kill all the gods-cursed immortals that are trying to tear our entire world apart if we ever want to spend more than brief minutes together reading ancient scrolls in dusty dungeons. _

He sighed at the irony of such idle thoughts in such a chaotic time. It was so typical.


	26. Clash

Action. Yes, oh yes. Sorry about the lack of fluff - wars suck, eh? But there will be plenty in the end.

**Jess** - thank you! I'm glad things aren't moving too slowly for you guys. And this last stretch of school is hell for me, and I'm going on a short trip soon, but when summer comes along... Hopefully I'll be done with this by then, and can work on oneshots and fun stuff. Not that this isn't fun, but it's hard. xD

**.111** - Which is why it's so fun to write Numair angst

**Starling Rising **- I love her, I really do. I think Numair owes her hugely. She's not gonna let him forget that. And good thinking - she is one of the only ones who can communicate with it, after all. I'm trying to draw facts and keep everything consistent with what we know about dragons, especially from the fight scene in WM, but still keep it more different than that, so it's not repetitive.

**purple smurfs r real **- thank you! Lol, you're right, they'll never stop worrying... but they can always forget worries for a little while. Except when they're in the middle of a war.

**xxTunstall Chickxx** - thank you! Original is what I'm going for. But still in character too, I hope I wasn't off.

**weeblzkat, Fyliwion, and Cygnet Shearwater** - thank so much!

**silverflight8 **- Building up the suspense is fun. They'll find a way - they always do - but it's not going to be easy, in any way!

**Fairy Lights** - Lol. And no, Daine didn't hear Onua walk in - Onua was very quiet and Daine still was half-asleep and scared. So yeah, Daine doesn't know that anyone else knows yet... They haven't really had much time to talk, have they? I'm so mean.

**EDITED**

* * *

Numair listened, tense, as Jon's voice echoed from a speaking-spell near his ear. Everyone was back in the positions that had grown so familiar over the past weeks. Himself, Daine, Tkaa, and Kitten on the northeast tower, lines of archers and mages along the walls, Onua at the gates, and Jon by the makeshift headquarters inside the castle. Everyone had a specific place to be. And now they had the additional help of Raoul's and Rocelin's troops, along with a group of mages from the City. _Perhaps we have a chance,_ Numair thought, barely daring to hope.

"Everyone is able communicate through these spells," Jon was saying. "I will fire a signal to attack: a thin column of my Gift. It'll be thin enough that the immortals, most likely, will not notice it. Only our mages who are actively looking for it will be able to see it. Is everyone ready?"

"As ready as we'll ever be," Numair said as Daine looked at him and gave him a nod. He forced himself to breathe calmly while Jon received approval from each commander for his plan. It was one thing to defend yourself against enemy attack, but launching an attack was entirely different, both psychologically and tactically. Numair watched out of the corner of his eye as Jon threw his arms in the air and let a sliver of blue fire dart into the sky, invisible to all but a trained mage's eye.

Numair shot out a burst of magic along the wall, catching each archer's arrow as they flew out almost simultaneously. Using his Gift, he pushed all the arrows out at high-speed, making them fly all the way to the distant immortals. With another flick of his wrist, the arrows exploded, his spell effective even at such a distance. He could hear faint screeches as the battle flared into life. Raoul's and Rocelin's troops were fighting as well. Spots of multicolored mage-fire glittered like starts in the clear sky, particularly thick around the group from the City. Legann's ground troops charged out, hurrying to the scene of the fight, weapons drawn as they shouted fierce battle cries.

"Again!" shouted Numair. Beside him, Daine raised her bow and glanced at him, a fierce look of determination glittering in her eyes. Numair called his Gift back to his fingertips. Right when Daine released her arrow, he let the magic fly along the wall.

"I think it's working," said Daine as she another arrow to her string. "We're catching them by surprise, at least."

"Best we can do," replied Numair. In what seemed like no time at all, he felt like he had sent out at least a hundred short blasts of magic and watched a hundred volleys of arrows fly. It was monotonously repetitive, yet intensely nerve-wracking at the same time; the constant influx of immortals and overbearing presence of the dragon was enough to send shivers down his spine.

A sudden, enormous bang sounded in the distance. Daine winced, and before Numair knew what was happening, she had grabbed his arm tightly. Out of pure instinct, Numair threw up a glittering black shield around the tower. But then he realized that the explosion was far too distant to affect them all. "Powder blasts," he muttered, dropping his magic. Daine immediately pulled away from him, readying her bow again. Numair kept a hand on her shoulder. "Again!" he shouted, raising his hand to send out more magic.

But before even a spark of Gift had left his fingertips, a deafening screech split through the air. Almost every single person in the castle fell to their knees, hands over their ears; only Tkaa and Kitten seemed unaffected. The dragonet let out her own piercing shriek in return, and the added noise made Numair's head throb, though it wasn't nearly as excruciating as the first screech.

"What was that?" panted Daine, crouching on the ground and experimentally drawing her hands away from her ears.

"I don't know," answered Numair, on the ground as well. He held Daine's chin and checked her face, making sure she was alright, but she wasn't looking at him.

"Where'd the dragon go?" she said suddenly.

"What?"

She pointed over the wall, scrambling to her feet. Numair could see scores of immortals, but the huge dragon was no longer visible. It had been crouching menacingly on the ground up until now. "Where's the dragon?" Daine repeated.

But before Numair could say a word, her question was answered for her. Out of nowhere, the dragon appeared in the air, beating its huge wings against the air and a mad gleam showing in its eyes. It was so close that Numair could see the veins spiderwebbing through the thin fabric-like skin of its wings. Too late, Numair remembered the extent of dragons' magic – they had read about it only hours ago, and had seen it with their own eyes three years go, with Kitten's mother at the Swoop. _Disappearing._ The dragon's scales were a glittering, opalescent scarlet in its rage, blinding like blood. It screeched again, making the castle walls tremble. A few unfortunate archers plummeted to their deaths. "Get down!" Numair screamed.

Daine dropped to the ground as the tower trembled with the force of the dragon's fury. Claws scraped along the sides of the walls, silver on stone. Beside them, Tkaa was pressed to the floor too, but Kitten jumped in the air, shrieking in a tone Numair had never heard before.

"Kitten!" Daine screamed. "Kitten, stop!"

Numair cursed as he tried to think of something to do. The dragon was smarter than they'd thought: it had seen what they were planning, and had come right to the source of the problem, instead of fighting helplessly. Dipping back into his Gift, Numair flung a ball of fire at each of the dragon's wings, hoping to hit a weak point. The dragon howled, dropping a few inches in the sky. But it wasn't enough to hinder the beast for long. Daine gave a sudden gasp.

"Don't hurt him!" she said, her eyes wide. Then she blinked, gritted her teeth, and shook her head angrily. "No – forget me – I'll block it."

"Daine," Numair said urgently. Daine felt the pain of all those related to the People near her when she wasn't actively using her strength to block it out. She couldn't connect with most enemy immortals, for they were either too human or refused to respond to her magic, but dragons were different. _I just hurt her,_ realized Numair.

But he couldn't afford to let the guilt control him. There was no time. The dragon dove and shot sizzling fire out of its viciously clawed forepaws, barely giving Numair enough time to produce a magical barrier for the tower. The flames reflected harshly off his magic, and Numair bit his lip, trying to hold his concentration so the spell wouldn't waver.

"We cannot just defend," said Tkaa, standing in front of Kitten. "A dragon can endure far longer than we can. We must attack."

"I can't," breathed Numair, his eyes flashing instinctively to Daine

"I told you, forget me," she said fiercely. "Don't be a dolt, Numair. I'm blocking my senses. It won't hurt me."

"Physically, perhaps not," contradicted Numair. "But I know you, Daine, you can't just - "

"Numair!" she yelled. Her body crashed into him just as Numair's magical shield flickered and vanished. A column of dragon-fire hissed into the ground, right where his body had been moments before, and left a long black scorch-mark on the stone. Daine's small form rested on top of him, and he saw her wince as her feet were singed by the receding flames. "You'd get into so much trouble without me," she muttered.

Holding her shoulders, Numair pulled them both up as he stood and searched for the dragon. It was directly above them, circling higher and higher, a menacing growl emanating from its throat. Numair didn't dare take his eyes off it for a second. He nearly froze with fear as the dragon dove again, ignoring the arrows and crossbow bolts pelting into its sides. Just as it was about to crash into the tower, Kitten leapt up and shrilled a high-pitched note, her scales a mixed shade of gray and purple. The enemy dragon wheeled around, hovering in the air and fixing its piercing gaze on the tiny dragonet.

"No!" Daine screamed suddenly, reaching out a hand.

It simply roared, spitting foul-smelling, ashen breath over the whole tower. The beast swooped down without warning and grabbed Kitten's tiny wings in its claws. With a massive push of its wings, it propelled itself high into the air again, the little dragonet tightly in its grip. Kit let out another earsplitting screech. Tiny spots of blood appeared on her thin wings. For a moment, Numair's whole body went cold, and then his mind kicked back into action - _do something_. Anything. Tkaa tried all of his different whistles, but nothing affected the powerful immortal. Numair knew his own spells would be of no use, not even if he drained every last drop of his Gift. Archers were firing bolts off constantly. One arrow flew dangerously close to Kit's flailing, struggling paws.

"Stop!" Numair shouted, holding a hand up towards the archers. The dragon began to turn in their air, heading towards the ocean. "Daine, get - "

"_Kitten_!"

And again, Numair's whole body froze over as Daine rushed to the edge of the parapet. She scrambled over the wall and leapt off without a second thought. Not thinking, Numair yelled out her name and raced to the tower wall, only to see a sleek seagull darting towards the sea after the dragon. "Daine!" he shouted again, terrified. It took him only a second to decide what he was going to do, and he tensed his body, preparing to shift into hawk form and go after her. Nothing was going to stop him from protecting her.

Thick purple strands of magic surrounded his body, both physically restraining him and stopping his Gift. Numair scowled, angry at being stopped. _I have much more power than Alanna, _he thought scathingly, about to blast his way out and follow Daine. But then blue ropes of magic bound his body, too. And as much as he struggled against them, he knew there was no hope. His Gift was powerful, but not powerful enough to overcome both Alanna's and Jon's combined efforts. "Alanna," he said coldly into a speaking-spell that had just materialized over his shoulder. "Let me go."

"I can't, Numair," she said, her voice tense with the effort of maintaining such a strong restraining spell over such a long distance. "You're going to hurt yourself even more – you _can't_ go after her."

"Do not try to tell me what I can and can't do," Numair said, his voice dangerous.

"I can," said Jon. Another speaking-spell had appeared over Numair's shoulder. The two globes of mage-fire glittered in the glaring sun. "Numair, you know that Daine can take care of herself. I can't risk both of you."

"So you'd let her die?" spat Numair. "She's chasing a dragon with nothing with her except her magic. She can't go alone! _No one_ could go alone!"

"And you think she'd want you to put yourself at risk?" Thayet's sharp voice joined the conversation from Jon's end.

Numair tried to take a deep breath, a moment of tense silence hanging in the air. He felt cold and isolated, as if everything around him were some sort of dream. The only thing that mattered was that Daine and Kitten were gone. "Let me go," he repeated.

The silence hung longer and his bonds didn't loosen. Finally Alanna spoke, her voice firm. "I'll come with you."

"No," Numair said instantly. As he knew Alanna was about to protest, he continued quickly. "You can't shapeshift. There's no other way to make it that far."

"Numair - "

"Let me go."

Another painful stillness lasted for longer than Numair could stand. Every second Daine was drawing farther away; farther into danger. At last, the king and Alanna gave in, and Numair felt both of the magical bonds disappear at the same time. He wasted no time in shifting into his hawk form, though he did remember to spell his clothes so they would stay with him when he shifted back. It was a tetchy spell, which was why he didn't normally use it, but he knew it would be cold out over the ocean. As he leapt from the tower and into the air, he felt a breeze pass by his hawk's ears and ruffle his dark feathers. Alanna's voice sounded in his mind.

_Don't get yourself killed._

_I will try,_ he thought, wishing she could hear. He wheeled in the air so he could stay on the dragon's tail, praying to Mithros that his magelet would be safe.

* * *

Daine let the thermals over the ocean lift and push her as she kept her gaze fixed on the dragon. The sea stretched out below her, an endless, shimmering blue expanse of grace and power. But Daine had no time to take in its beauty. All her thoughts were focused on the beating of her wings and keeping her clear eyes on her quarry and Kitten. Even thoughts of the battle still raging behind her in Legann faded from her mind. At last, the dragon dropped and swerved, spiraling towards a seaside cliff framed by harsh spars of rock. The red speck that was the dragon disappeared into the stone, and Daine followed, narrowing her wings to achieve more speed.

But as she approached the cliff, she began to feel more and more terrified. Now that she had lost sight of the dragon, she had no bearings as to where it had gone. The entire cliff face seemed impenetrably solid to her; she couldn't figure out where the dragon had disappeared to. But it had gone somewhere – and it had taken Kitten. Shifting only her eyes, but keeping the seagull's streamlined form, she scanned the precipice for any abnormality; anything at all that could lead her to locating the dragon. Not even a dragon could pass through solid stone, she knew – but it could make itself appear to vanish, or change the color of its scales to blend with the rocks.

Finally, she found something. Behind a crag of rock there was an opening, barely large enough for a full-grown dragon, and plenty big enough for a tiny seagull. The rock blended in with the cliff behind it, hiding the jagged pathway from view. Cool air blew over her as she twirled into the opening, but she ignored it, pressing on farther. She felt a twinge of that same isolation she had felt in the desert as she moved farther into the cave – no bats lived by this sea, and the only things underground this far were worms. Worms were like dinner. She could sense only the dragon and Kitten ahead of her.

When the air became so cold that she could hardly bear it, Daine dropped to the floor of the cave and shifted into a lithe wildcat with thick fur, like the kinds that she could remember seeing up in the mountains of Snowsdale. The stone under her paws was smooth and clean, as if not even dirt could make it this far inside. Each step she took was silent, but her heart pounded more and more nervously the closer she got to the dragon. Her deadly enemy. She could feel the dragon close by. Straining her ears, Daine heard a tiny murmuring that sounded like Kitten's muffled whistles, too. All of a sudden, Daine was struck by a fierce ache to have Numair at her side – she didn't want to be alone.

Two gleaming eyes suddenly snapped open only yards ahead of her in the darkness. Even Daine's cat eyes couldn't make out anything except the two small spots of light, which gleamed with malice and a cruel kind of intelligence. A sharp voice resonated in her mind, less painful than that of the Graveyard Hag's, but more painful than the griffins' voices she had felt at Pirate's Swoop.

_Leave here, human. I wish to have no quarrel with you._


	27. Motives

Wow, so many reviews! You guys are great! Can this story possibly get over 200 by the end? Here is the next chapter, it's got everything; action, explanations, and fluff. Enjoy, and sorry it took so long and hasn't been edited - I was gone for four days and tried to get it up as fast as possible. Sometime I'll look over it and edit it, but this last stretch of school is awfully busy, but I'm doing my best! Plus, my computer has been spastic and decided to get a virus and make some links not work, so that's just a hassle.

**xxTunstall Chickxx, Fyliwion, little 'ol me, Cygnet Shearwater, Sarcastic Loner, Lizzy, and spazzysassyangel - **thank you guys so much! All those compliments make me happy!

**purple smurfs r real, .111, weeblz-kat, and Fairy Lights - **Hehe, I like cliffies. Read on my loves!

**Starling Rising - **Thank you! Yeah, Daine definitely can't do it on her own, but even together it'll be a challenge. I hope you like what I chose for the dragon - props for guessing the name of this chapter, too!

**Jess - **Lol, thank you, I understand your pain. Two evil papers. But one of them is in English, and my English teacher likes me cause I told her about this site, since it seemed like something an English teacher would really go for. I mean, students WRITING in their free time? A miracle! Fanfic is just so fun.

**silverflight8 - **Ah, I hope I didn't disappoint, the dragon isn't anyone too particularly special. I think it would tear Kitten apart if the dragon was related, because I can't see the clash resolving nicely. Lol, I think Numair's got his work cut out for him indeed, and don't worry - I'm not so cruel as to kill off Kit. Only someone awful and heartless would do that!

**fantasygirl16 - **thank you! Same here, it is my favorite TP couple by far, and is one of my two favorite couples ever. They're just so interesting to read and write about. Yup, fluff galore ahead! Unfortunately though, I'm afraid the dragon has a bit more pressing problems than loneliness... I feel bad, but he's not one of the good guys. But it'll still be tough, emotionally and physically, for everyone to find out what to do.

**EDITED  
**

* * *

Daine cringed at the sudden pain, losing control over her wildcat form and becoming human again. Naked, she shivered violently in the cave's cold, trying to look directly at the pair of eyes fixed unblinkingly upon her. "It's a bit late to try and make peace," she said, lashing out thoughtlessly. The dragon's eyes narrowed.

_You are weak. I am strong. If you leave now, you will not see me again. Your people will kill the allies that I have brought from my realms. It is your nature to destroy. You may leave here alive._

Once Daine blocked out the burning pang, she registered vaguely that the dragon's voice in her mind was deep and melodious. The creature spoke in very clear, precise language. If Daine could have forgotten about Kitten and the war, it would have been be a nice voice to listen to. "Kitten," Daine said, sounding braver than she felt. "I want Kitten back."

A deep rumbling gave Daine a split second to dive aside as fire lit up the cavern and gave her a clear view of the dragon rearing and snarling. His scales still glittered scarlet, but now she could see his sides heaving, and his thick hide was peppered with blood. An arrow was still fixed in his right wing, though he seemed to take no notice of it. Behind him was Kitten, crouched as if ready to attack. All her limbs were shaking. Blood trickled from her tiny wings. The older dragon's flames filled up the cave, licking the walls and casting eerie shadows on the floor, and somehow the beast kept them there. Daine stood her ground, grateful for the fire's warmth, but missing the cloaking darkness. She felt vulnerable without her clothes. More than anything, she wanted to hold Kitten. But she knew she had to wait. She didn't know how she was going to bring herself to just _attack_ outright, even if it was obvious the dragon was intent on harming her. She just had to find out _why_.

"Why are you hurting us like this?" she asked fiercely, watching flames dance over the dragon's form. "We never wanted to hurt you. We just wanted to protect our home. We never intended to attack yours. Why do you attack ours?"

_Why should I bother talking to you?_ the dragon hissed viciously. _You are nothing to me._

_I'm not nothing,_ Daine replied, now in mind-speak. She had improved since the last time she had communicated with such a powerful immortal – with the last dragon they had met, Kitten's mother, she had needed direct contact, and it had been hard on her body. But now, all she felt was just a twinge of pressure as she connected her mind to the dragon's. _I'm not just a two-legger,_ Daine stated._ I'm part of you as well._

The dragon was silent for a moment, swishing its tail back and forth, but never moving his calculating eyes. Daine could see the intelligence behind them - and the hostility. _That you are,_ he said emotionlessly. Daine bit her lip. She didn't know what to say, and she wasn't going to risk attacking when there was a chance that the two of them could just talk.

_Why?_ The dragon spoke again. _Why do you associate yourself with humans? You don't have to. You could stay with us. With the People. _

_But I'm part human too, _responded Daine, tense. _I can't stop part of who I am. I can't fight it._

The dragon roared, the sound resonating around the cavern and making Daine's head ache. She forced herself to stay still and keep her hands from her ears. It would have no effect on the fiercely loud mind-speak. _Your nature is cruel, then!_ hissed the dragon. _Humans are cruel. Usurping. They destroy anything in their path. No matter how much you have, you want_ _more. You ravage your homeland, and instead of stopping there, you decide to tear apart ours. Nothing can stand in your way. Not laws as old as time, not fear of things greater than you, not compassion for other creatures. _

_Not everyone is the same! _Daine insisted. She couldn't stop herself from taking a step back and closing her eyes. _Humans aren't just one or the other. You can't judge all of us based on the actions of one!_

Daine's words were lost as another screech emanated from the dragon's throat, more piercingly painful than any other sound Daine had ever heard. The dragon shot forward, extending its silver claws; they glittered in the flickering light of the flames. Daine leapt to the side and avoided getting slashed by mere inches. The dragon let out a dangerous growl. The narrow cavern confining him, the dragon whipped around and scraped its tail against the wall, making brittle rock fall to the floor. Vaguely Daine heard Kitten shriek, but the wildmage forced herself to her feet and faced the adult dragon instead. All rational thoughts had vanished from his eyes, leaving only a cold malice.

"Don't do this," panted Daine aloud. "Please, stop. We didn't do anything to you."

_You destroyed my home. You killed my children. _

_We didn't! It wasn't us! _

_You are human. You said it yourself. It was humans that destroyed me! All of you have the nature of killers and thieves. Why should I bother to differentiate? Better to destroy all of you, and never have to worry. I gave you a chance to retreat and you did not. You refused to surrender the dragon you stole. You do not deserve to live! _With a final, bloodcurdling yell, the dragon raised its head back towards the wall and lifted its clawed forepaws high into the air.

Daine didn't even have time to think. Her body seemed to shift of its own accord; in moments, Daine found herself in the comfortable form of a wolf. On instinct, she leapt into the air, barely dodging a shot of dragon-fire. Skidding to the floor, Daine braced herself and shot her gaze around the cavern. There had to be some way she could save Kitten. In front of her, the dragon reared again, its forepaws raised for another flamethrower. The immortal's neck was scrunched and its tail was curled; the cavern was too low for him to stretch fully.

_That's it!,_ thought Daine, her heart pounding. It was an insane plan, that was for sure - but it was the only one she had.

Daine bunched the muscles in her hind legs and jumped, ramming her head into the dragon's jaw. With all her strength, Daine pushed the dragon's head into the ceiling. A loud crack echoed through the carvern, and the dragon fell at once, unconscious. Daine dropped to the ground, her head throbbing. Even with her usually clear wolf-vision, she saw stars and black spots dancing all around. With a gasp, she lost control over the animal shape, and found her fur and strength gone as she shifted back into two-legger form.

"Kit?" Daine mumbled. She dropped quickly to her knees, ignored the sting, blinked to clear her sight, and struggled over to the trembling dragonet. Kitten whistled and scurried over.

"Kit," gasped Daine, lifting the dragonet gently. "Are you okay? Your wings - "

Kit trilled and shook her head at Daine's fussing. Her eyes were bright, but her injured wing twitched when Daine's fingers brushed against it. "I'll get you home," Daine murmured, scratching Kit's ears. "We'll get home somehow, Kit, I promise."

As Kitten whistled again and closed her eyes, the enemy dragon's tail twitched. There was a small scraping noise as it settled back onto the ground. Daine froze, tense, but the dragon didn't regain consciousness. The flames, having remained shining so solidly on their own around the cavern, were dimming. The cave was darkening again. _Does that mean he's dying?_ Daine wondered. A pang of sadness shot through her heart. The dragon had acted only out of anguish – somehow, he had lost his home, and the only thing that he thought was right to do was to get revenge on the race that had taken it. Daine was surprised to find that she felt no pound of anger at the dragon. Only sadness and pity.

She set the dozing Kitten down gently on the stone, tickled by how quickly the dragonet could fall asleep. Rising to her feet, Daine walked as quietly as she could towards the huge dragon. She had to squint to watch her step in the dimming light. The dragon was still alive, she could tell, but only just – his great chest rose and fell, but the top of his head was bleeding where Daine had forced it into the cavern ceiling. Many other cuts glistened on his skin as well.

A sudden rustle and clatter of pebbles came from the tunnel behind her. Daine whipped around, narrowing her eyes even further; the darkness was impenetrable past the dragon's dying flames. A familiar, tall shape came slowly into view, just as glittering black fire illuminated the cave and Daine's breath caught in her throat.

"_Numair__!"_

Daine rushed to him, barely noticing as he draped a cloak around her shoulders. Throwing her arms around his neck, Daine buried her face against the mage's chest, hearing the rapid pounding of his heart. His arms slid around her back, holding her firmly off the ground, and she could hear gentle, comforting murmurs in her ear. Eventually, Daine lifted her head, finding her face inches away from Numair's. But before she could say anything, Numair's hand slid behind her head, tilting it back as he brought his lips to hers in a kiss that drove all other thoughts away from her exhausted mind. His hands moved feverishly from her shoulders to her face then back to her hips, as if ensuring that every inch of her was whole and uninjured. Daine twisted her fingers tightly in Numair's hair, drawing their bodies closer. There was no time for second thoughts and uncertainties now – too much was at stake. Pushing away all her fears, Daine sank to the ground. Her legs weren't doing a very good job at supporting her weight. As she and Numair broke apart, she immediately leaned against his shoulder and gripped his shirt, closing her eyes to stave off tears.

"By all the gods, Daine," Numair said exasperatedly, but Daine could hear the unreserved relief in his voice. He kept one arm tight around her back while the other ran gently over her messy, tangled hair. "Promise me that you will _never_ do that again."

"I had to," she said, her voice muffled by his clothes. "I had to. To save Kit. She's okay, she's just tired, I think, her wings aren't hurt too bad."

She felt Numair's head move; he was checking on Kitten. Curled in his arms, Daine let her mind go blank, just for a second. For one moment, there was only them. Numair's fingers touched her chin and titled her face up so that their eyes met. When he swept her up in another embrace, Daine felt deep, warm, and relieved breaths tickling beside her cheek. She could feel the roughness of his skin after days of stress and no free time to shave. They stayed in silence for another minute, letting the peace last until both of them remembered reality.

"Is it dead?" asked Numair coarsely, motioning towards the dragon.

"I don't think so," sighed Daine, sliding slowly out of Numair's arms. She walked over to the dragon, pulling Numair's cloak tighter around her body against the cavern's chill. Creeping just close enough to the dragon, Daine saw its slow breaths still present and constant. "_He_ is still alive. Just unconscious."

Numair made a sudden movement with him arm, sweeping it out in front of Daine and blocking her way. "Please - don't go so near," he said anxiously. He bent to pick up Kitten from the ground, who woke and trilled happily when she recognized Numair. A reluctant half-smile appeared on Numair's face, but it was tinged with apprehension as he glanced between the dragonet, Daine, and the sleeping menace. "I'm sorry, Daine. This probably frightens me more than it does you or Kitten."

"He's not dangerous, Numair," said Daine, then instantly understood Numair's quizzical look. "Well, he is – _really_ dangerous – but not right _now_, I mean. I'm fine, Numair. Kit and I both are fine. It's not like we can do anything to him before he wakes up, anyway, can we?" Daine knew full well that this dragon had already begun to ravage her homeland and wanted to kill everyone who was dear to her. But all the same, she couldn't comprehend the idea of a cold-blooding killing.

Numair didn't say anything for a moment, his eyes searching as they gazed at her. He sighed and set Kitten back down on the ground. "Of course," he said at last. "Of course not. It is possible that he might _not_ wake up, after all. And – simply out of common curiosity - how did you manage to do that?"

"Luck, mostly," muttered Daine, walking back over to him and explaining what she'd done. It _was_ mostly luck. She pressed herself close to the mage's side, enjoying being able to be near him without worrying, but also keeping her eyes on the comatose dragon. Numair's arm wrapped around her comfortingly.

"Good thinking," said Numair, in reference to her story.

"I _didn't_ think. I just jumped. It was almost as if the jump was pulled out of me, like my healing was before."

Numair looked back up at the dragon. "Physical actions can't be pulled out of you like magic can. When you are in wolf form, you gain many of the instincts and characteristics that every wolf possesses, along with your own human instincts. It was a combination of both that made you jump."

Daine nodded. But guilt still spread through her body like cold porridge; she didn't like even thinking about harming the dragon. Numair's arms tightened around her, and he looked down again, his brow crinkled. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine," Daine insisted. She shifted her shoulder up to wipe her eyes, annoyed at herself. "Just - I don't know what to do. I don't like just standing here and waiting for things to happen. But we can't just kill him, Numair. I _talked_ to him." Daine was desperate for Numair to understand her logic. It must seem crazy to him, after all. She was defending the creature that had just tried to kill them, and was now passing up the best chance to get rid of it for good. "He lost his home somehow. And it was Ozorne's fault. I think his kits were killed, somehow, and now he just wants to avenge them and everything. I don't know how it happened, but it did, and I tried to explain that it was just Ozorne. And that not every two-legger was the same, and all. But he wouldn't listen."

Numair nodded. "Perhaps the spell Ozorne used cut directly through the dragon's home, releasing the immortals and killing the young dragons." His eyes fell on Kitten. "A young dragon couldn't survive such a crossing between worlds."

"He's just doing what any parent would," Daine murmured with her head still on his chest. "I know we'll have to get him to stop somehow. But I can't do it in cold blood. He's smart, Numair. He lost something that he loved."

"I know," he said gently. "I promise, there will be nothing like that. No cold blood. We might as well sit down, for now." Numair lowered himself – and her with him –onto the hard stone with his long legs slightly bent in front of him. He withdrew his arms from around Daine and supported himself with his elbows as he leaned back. Daine could tell that his calm appearance was forced. A few sparkles of black fire still glittered around his palms. Sighing, Daine shivered again and slid to the floor beside him, crossing her legs and resting her elbows on her knees. Numair looked sidelong at her; the soft cotton of his shirt brushed against her arms.

"How did you get here?" Daine asked. He couldn't have shifted; he was still wearing his clothes.

"Hawk form," he answered. Daine frowned, and Numair understood her question without her even needed to open her mouth. "I spelled my clothes to stay with me. It is not a reliable or simple spell to use even in the best of times, but I figured it might be a little bit useful in this particular case."

"Mhmm," Daine agreed, leaning against his arm and closing her eyes while a stab of anxiety shot through her heart for ignoring the dangerous peculiarity of their situation. They were sitting, waiting, and doing nothing while a deadly dragon was right in front of them. How long would they wait, if the dragon didn't wake up? What would they do if it did? Questions whirled inside Daine's mind like a flock of bats swarming around insects during their evening hunt. But they all faded as she felt a small pressure in her lap; Kitten was curling up to rest. Numair's fingers threaded gently through the hair that fell across Daine's face. His touch sent tingles down her spine.

"I'll keep watch first," Numair said. Daine normally would have objected. But she just sighed and nodded. For now, she just wanted to stay close to him, for as long as she could until they had to fight. She didn't know if this kind of happiness could last when the war was over, but she made herself believe with all her heart that it would. She needed something to fight for. _Fighting for peace_, she told herself firmly. _And fighting for love._


	28. Falling

School should die! Ah well, another unedited but nice, long, fluffy, intense, cliffy chapter. Enjoy. I'll go through and edit this whole story eventually, I promise!

**Jess - **thank you! Lol, pyshic person. I usually will be updating Sunday nights... Like now, when it's an hour past my "bedtime," I have yet to take a shower and finish my homework because I was determined to get this up.

**The Whisper - **Thank you so much, I'm glad it hooked you back in! It's a very fun fandom!

**weeblz-kat - **Haha, yup, they're cliche and they work every time. -winks- Thank you!

**.111, xxTuntstal Chickxx, Horseluvr13, and purple smurfs r real - **thank you!

**silverflight8 -** I think he just always wears one usually, and yet it seems to end up on Daine more often than not, leaving poor Numair cloakless. Ah well, as you might be able to tell, I love that image, of Daine wearing Numair's cloak. Thank you so much - it's good to know work is realistic. I like having very non-perfect characters.

**Starling Rising - **Unfortunately, an alliance doesn't seem like much of an option anymore. I shed a tear. But thank you!

**Captain Libeka - **Thank you thank you thank you thank you! That means so much! Update is for you!**  
**

**Sarcastic Loner - **I felt their views would differ a little too, but of course, Numair cares too much about her to ever do anything to hurt her. Dragon situation almost over!

**Cygnet Shearwater - **thank you so much! Now you will find out... most everything!

**EDITED**

* * *

Alanna paced furiously, her worn-out boots making sharp tapping noises on the hard stone of the tower-top with every step. Her heart was already aching with worry for Raoul, out in the middle of the battle around Caynn and Corus, and now Numair was off putting himself in danger too. She bit her lip and watched the setting sun, berating herself for letting him go. She knew she couldn't really have held him back. Not when it came to Daine's safety. She had seen Numair act like that only once before – when Ozorne held Daine captive in the palace, and Numair was stuck with the Tortallan delegates. Alanna ran a hand through her hair, irritated. He was so gods-cursed stubborn. But then, she reasoned, it was understandable – he was in love, after all. A small smile managed to flicker momentarily on her face. She was fairly sure both people concerned were well aware of their position by now; it was simply a matter of time until it would amount to anything. Unless it already had, of course, and Alanna just didn't know yet.

A cold weight settled on her shoulders as she thought of the awful timing of everything. Just as her two friends were finally falling in love - and no matter what their own thoughts on the subject may be, Alanna knew that their love was indeed a wonderful thing – a war with far greater complications than any of them had ever seen before was occurring. This magnitude of immortals hadn't been seen in nearly half a century. And they had to come _now_? Alanna had hoped vainly that her children could have grown up without this kind of trauma and terror in their lives. Instead, it was worse than ever. For the most part, humans knew how to deal with other humans, even if it was hard. But humans didn't know how to deal with immortals.

"Alanna?"

"I'm sorry, Jon," Alanna said instantly, not even bothering to glance at the speaking-spell. They had been sparkling into existence by her shoulders so often that they barely made her bat an eye anymore. "I shouldn't have let him go."

"Not Jon. It's Thayet."

"Sorry," sighed Alanna. She had to pay more attention. "I couldn't keep him here. There was no way."

"I know," Thayet replied gently. "Don't worry yourself about it, Alanna."

"What if he gets himself killed out there?" Alanna hissed. "It's bad enough with Daine out there, but she can talk to the dragon; she has a connection. Numair - "

"Stop. That's not going to help."

"I know." Silence hung momentarily, but Alanna didn't notice, too caught up in her worries. Deep in her heart, she knew that she wasn't really angry – she was just scared.

"They'll be fine; they always are," said the queen. "They work well together – you know that. Numair would never let anything happen to Daine, and she is the same way about him."

Alanna smiled a little again. "That is certainly true. I'll be surprised if they don't come back from this as a distinct pair." She didn't mention the fact that there was far too high of a chance that they wouldn't come back at all.

"So will I. I'm hoping they already are. I had Jon send them together to the libraries to research dragons. It's just almost as effective as locking them in a closest, after all."

"I wish I had thought of that. You are one cunning woman."

"I call it helpful."

"Either way."

Another silence fell. In the distance, screeches sounded and flashes of light sparked from the battle, making Alanna tense. What if Numair hadn't managed to find Daine? And what if he had – and something was wrong? Thayet's voice interrupted Alanna's musings again, more businesslike and worried now, the vaguely jovial air gone.

"Alanna? Is something happening?"

"No, no. Nothing. Just - this is all just so gods-cursed inconvenient," Alanna muttered heatedly, stretching her arms out in front of her. "If we could just finish this war and get out of this castle… We've been cooped up here too long. I can't stand it. I want my friends safe. I want my children home. I want to make sure my country isn't ripped to shreds."

"I think we feel the same. I, for one, loathe sitting here doing nothing while our troops are fighting."

"Don't even mention that. It's killing me." Alanna fingered the hilt of her sword, sighing.

"I'm sorry."

_Sorry_. Alanna sighed again. Such a horribly inadequate and overused word lately.

* * *

"Could there be a way to send him back?" Daine asked, her voice carefully hopeful. She crossed her legs as she sat beside him, biting her lip.

Numair stared intently at the dragon, watching its chest rise and fall at a disjointed, uneven pace. Even with its scales glittering and red, he could still see streaks of blood running across his back and wings from arrow punctures. He even saw burns on the flesh of its wings, some of which must have been from his own mage blasts. He could understand why Daine was willing to do whatever it took to keep the dragon safe. He didn't even have a connection with it like she did. But at the same time, Numair remembered only too clearly the mad glint in the dragon's eyes when they were merely feet apart on the tower-top. He couldn't let Daine risk herself like that - not to save a creature who wouldn't hesitate at all to kill her and everyone she loved.

"I don't know," he said at last, running a hand through his hair anxiously. "A reversion of Ozorne's spell would simply close off the Divine Realms for good. Any other type of spell would require much more power, for something so large."

"_You_ have a lot of power."

Numair sighed. "Not enough for this. Not when I've been using so much lately. It might not be possible even if I were at full strength." Daine's head rested heavily on his shoulder. Numair realized, suddenly, that he didn't think he'd ever get used to that. Years could pass and he would still wonder how she had ever come to love him. He ran his hand absently through her tangled hair. Glancing down, Numair noticed that her eyes were narrowed and focused, and she was watching the dragon determinedly. In between them, Kitten stretched and yawned, and Daine's eyes flickered down to the dragonet. Her claws scraped against the stone, the noise sounding like a blacksmith's shop in the silence.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Daine murmured, patting the dragonet's head. "Happy to have both your parents back?"

Kitten whistled, but there was a bittersweet tone to her usually cheerful means of communication. Rising onto her paws, the dragonet and padded over to the larger dragon, sitting down squarely in front of the beast's face, only a few feet away. Numair instantly sat up straighter, magic ready on his hands. He forced himself to stay still; he knew Kitten needed this time. This was the only other dragon she'd seen in the mortal realms since her mother had died - and this one had to be their enemy.

"I'm sorry, Kit," said Daine gently. "There has to be something we can do," she murmured to Numair.

Racking his brain, Numair searched for anything that could possibly help them, and finding it incredibly difficult to concentrate with Daine so close beside him and the rest of his thoughts occupied with worry for Kitten. He had an idea… but he didn't like it. He wanted to avoid mentioning it, even thinking about it, if at all possible. Daine wouldn't like it either, he knew.

"Anything," Daine said firmly, turning and sitting on her knees so that her face was level with his. Her fierce gaze kept Numair focused.

"You know that I possess skills and abilities that I never use," he began quietly. "Words of Power. Dark magic. Things I don't like to use. Like mind-capturing."

Daine nodded, her gaze softening, and Numair felt her small hand rest over his.

"It doesn't take a vastly high amount of power to _do_ most of those things. It takes a lot of power to learn, but once it's an ability, it comes easier. Sometimes when I'm tired, I accidentally mind-capture with just my eyes. Most mages need some sort of shiny object. Other things include mind-merging, shape-shifting, the ability to see the Gift in others…."

"But all those are good things," Daine interrupted quickly, knowing his habit for listing. "You use them for good. What's the bad thing?"

There was a pause. A long, dense pause like the fog on a sultry spring morning at his tower by the sea.

"Draining," Numair said finally. "Draining away its power and adding it to my own." If he could strengthen himself, he could try and send the dragon home. With himself stronger and the dragon weaker, he might just be able to send it back through Ozorne's weakened barrier. But there were so many dangers to it as well; dangers that he did not want to think about.

Daine was silent, and Numair grimaced, wishing he hadn't brought it up. She stared at the ground. "His," she murmured. "Not 'its power'. His."

Numair nodded, tightening his arm around her. "I'm sorry, Daine."

"It's like what Ozorne tried to do to me."

"I know. I'm sorry." He reached out to brush away a few strands of hair that had fallen over her eyes, but she shook her head and pushed his hand away.

"I'm being silly. If it's the only way, it's the only way." She rose to her feet, looking down at him now, her gaze anguished but decided. "I know you. You wouldn't suggest it if there was anything else. Any other option at all. I trust you."

Numair stared up at her for a moment, tense. Then he too pushed himself up, carefully putting distance between himself and Daine. It felt _wrong_, somehow, thinking about performing such a dark spell. But Daine was right, there was nothing else they could do. If he did this, was he no better than Ozorne, nearly draining the life out of his magelet? Numair turned away from her and rubbed his forehead, struggling to think. Daine, however, didn't seem too disconcerted by thought of the dark magic that Numair would soon have to perform. She stepped close and touched her hand to his cheek. Her bare toes touched his boots, and she raised herself up on them so that their faces were as close to even as they could ever get. Her calloused palm was warm against his face.

"You're a good man, Numair," she said. "You're not evil because you have to use a dark spell, you know? Remember what you always used to tell me in lessons? 'Magic is nothing in and of itself; everything depends on the person who uses it and for what purpose.'" Her gaze didn't leave his as she continued. "You're not like Ozorne. You're doing this because you have no choice. No other option. No other way to help Tortall and try keep an amazing dragon alive at the same. Ozorne would have just killed him on the spot. Or trapped him, or something. But you found a way that helps everybody."

Then she closed the few inches between them and kissed him, her lips lingering sweetly. Eyes closed, Numair found her wrists and held them as she dropped back onto her heels, her hands still on his face. He leaned his forehead to hers, not opening his eyes until their rapid breathing was in time with each other, the only sound echoing throughout the cave.

"How is it that you always know exactly what to say, magelet?"

"I learned from the best," Daine said, smiling. They stood there for a moment, inches apart, neither wanting to move. Finally, Numair took a deep breath and let go of her hands. Daine moved to stand beside him as he called his Gift to his fingertips, motioning towards Kit to come back.

But before Numair could even gather his thoughts, Kitten let out a shriek and leapt backwards, far away from the dragon. Numair dropped his hands at once. "Kitten? What's wrong?" Kitten hissed, standing tensely with her injured wings trembling. In moments, Numair realized what she was so worried about.

The huge dragon across the cavern was no longer unconscious. Its eyes snapped open, and it roared, climbing upright to its feet with incredible speed. The cave was still confining for the dragon's bulk; the massive immortal's neck was bowed and low once it was steady on its clawed paws. Numair had no time to articulate a spell. He recognized only that the dragon was fully conscious, blinking the last of its weariness from its eyes, and ready to fight. A second later, hot fire blasted from the dragon's forepaws. Numair pushed Daine out of the way, the flames missing her by mere inches.

Daine shouted something, but Numair was too focused, too tense to hear her. Kitten appeared from the smoke safely at Numair's feet, unharmed, but eyes wide with terror. From the side of the cavern, Daine rushed back to scoop up the dragonet in her arm. She glanced up at Numair and opened her mouth, but there was no time to speak. The dragon whipped around very agilely for being trapped in such a narrow space. It lashed out with more fire, and Numair did the only thing he could think to do - he met Daine's eyes and they came to an unspoken agreement.

Simultaneously, they whipped around and ran, as hard and fast as they could. They pressed themselves close the tunnel's wall as they went, flames chasing after them. Smoke and fumes scorched and stung Numair's throat with every breath. A roar echoed behind them "We've got to get out," he panted, wincing and coughing in the smoke. Daine didn't hear him. "We have to get out!" he said louder. "Too much fire and not enough oxygen – not a good combination."

"Right," gasped Daine, glancing behind her. Kitten was right there, but her tiny legs were shaking. Daine scooped the dragonet up into her arms. "Almost there!"

_We had better be_, thought Numair desperately. The only advantage they had on the dragon now was their small size. Unable to fly or run due to its bulk, the dragon would have a much harder time getting back through the cavern quickly. But it also had its power, and Numair winced as another wave of heat and smoke blew over him, making his eyes water.

Daine was right. He felt grains of sand crunching under his feet now, indicating they were close to the sea. It seemed to have taken them far less time to reach the outside of the cavern than it had taken him to get to Daine in the interior. Fresh and air and sky slapped his face like a drum. He had never before been so grateful to smell ocean water and see endless stretches of blue in every direction.

And then Numair looked down. They had forgotten about the drop. They had forgotten about the long stretch of steep, vertical cliff crumbling away at their feet, the sandy and rocky ground far below. Daine looked at him, fear in her stormy eyes.

"How high are we?"

Numair glanced down, trying to make his brain work. His thoughts felt like the iced-over skating pond back at the palace, despite the heat of dragon-fire behind him. On the ground below, waves pounded against sharp rocks, leaving only small spaces of sand and surf in between. _We're not too high,_ Numair thought immediately. _But it is too dangerous of a landing._ "Perhaps fifteen feet," he estimated, checking behind him. He could hear scraping claws and roars, but no blasts of fire anymore.

"Can we make it?" Daine asked, her voice breathless.

"I will. I'll take Kitten and jump, while you shift and fly down, all right?"

"No!" Daine said fiercely, just as Kitten let out a shrill whistle. "Never, Numair, I'm not going to let you - "

"It makes sense," he hissed. The dragon was getting closer. "I'm bigger than you, Daine, the one who is least likely to sustain injury from such a fall. Please. There isn't much time. I need to know that you will be safe."

Daine bit her lip, glaring at him, her face streaked with sweat, dirt, and traces of tears – Numair couldn't tell if they were from the painfully smoky air or not. There was clear indecision battling in her gaze - but she waited just a moment too long. The dragon seemed to appear out of nowhere behind them, spitting out foul breath with more loud roars that nearly deafened Daine and Numair. Its teeth glinted dangerously in the fading rays of light from the sun. One fierce forepaw lashed out at Daine. Silver claws slashed at her left ankle, and she gasped, collapsing with her hands on her leg. Behind her, the cliff-rocks crumbled. She slipped off the edge, disappearing from Numair's sight.

"Daine!" Numair screamed, whirling around. He couldn't see her on the sand below, couldn't see her in the sea, Kitten was beside him, screeching -

"_Behind you!_"

Instinctively, Numair whipped back around, just in time to avoid a shot of fire aimed directly at him. He and the dragon were too close. There would be no use for shielding; no use for throwing mage blasts. On a sudden impulse, Numair put his fingers to his lips and performed the first thing that came into his mind: The Sorcerer's Dance. The whistled notes came out jumbled and hurriedly, not quite as powerful as they should be due to his lack of a clear instrument. But Numair had enough Gift left in reserve to force the spell to work. Rocks vibrated around him, shaking the cliff, then crashed down, blockading the dragon back inside the cave. Quickly Numair slashed his hands through the air, shoving out strong magic to cement the stones where they were.

The dragon roared in fury. Numair could picture it ramming its body against the rock wall, making everything shake. But the rocks held, and Numair turned his gaze back out over the cliff, his mind both whirling and frozen at the same time. He forgot about everything except Daine: _Daine, falling._

"Numair?"

Now he could tell where the sound was coming from. It was Daine's voice, shaky but loud enough to be heard even even over the screeches of the dragon and the pounding of waves on the shore below. Daine was grasping onto a crevice in the rock, her knees resting sideways on a tiny ridge extending from the cliff, a little over halfway down. Too far to reach. She tried to smile up at Numair and say that she was fine. But her face was ashen, and blood covered her left ankle.

Kitten let out a wail and scrambled down the cliff, somehow managing to scrape her way down until she was balanced on the same minuscule outcropping. Daine's face contorted in pain as one knee slipped, leaving her injured leg and her arms holding up all her weight. Numair's mind flew into overdrive. They couldn't reach other, and they _had_ to get down; he _had_ to treat to her as injury soon as possible.

"Go down," Daine gasped, her eyes shut tight. "Get down there – I'm not too far up now. You'll catch me."

"No! I will use magic to carry you to the ground, and then get down myself."

"You need to save your strength, Numair! Every bit of magic, you'll need."

"Daine – your leg - "

"It's the only way," she grimaced. "Go!"

If it had been anyone other than Daine, Numair knew he would have kept arguing. But the fierce way she looked at him - and the bright blood covering her foot - made up his mind. Numair jumped and dove towards the sand, feet first, ready to buckle on impact. He even used a touch of magic to slow his fall through the air, but the landing was still horribly jolting. He crashed to all fours and rolled. Scrambling to his feet, Numair saw that Daine was right again – she was close enough to the ground; she and Kitten couldn't be more than eight feet above the ground. Her blood stained the gray cliff rock.

And suddenly she couldn't hold on any longer. Daine fell, Kitten leaping after her, and Numair leapt forward to catch her, almost falling himself with her added weight. Kitten tumbled into the sand, but she was strong and safe. Daine, however, looked as if the Black God himself had come to visit. Her face was far too pale and sweaty. The loss of blood was too much. Daine gasped as Numair hurried to set her on the sand, the ocean waves lapping at their feet. Her eyes fluttered open and shut, but she was struggling to focus on him. Her hand moved limply and she grimaced.

"Don't move, Daine," Numair said quickly. "Stay still. This will sting."

She tried to nod, but could only manage to close her eyes in pain. Feeling at her neck, Numair found that her pulse was unsteady. He had to act fast. Ripping a long strip of fabric from the edge of his shirt, Numair turned to the ocean and dampened it, then washed her wound out with the salty water. She moaned and winced at the tang. The sound made his chest constrict painfully. "Hold on, Daine," he said urgently. His makeshift cloth was already stained dark red with her blood. Throwing it to the ground, Numair tore off another strip, this time from the cloak that Daine was wearing, and wrapped it tight around the deep wound.

But it wasn't enough. Every last bit of color had left Daine's cheeks. More than ever before, Numair wished for healing magic. What did it matter if he could blow a giant crater in the ground, or raise impenetrable palisades out of stone and earth, if he couldn't save Daine? _Do what you can,_ his mind screamed at him. _Do whatever _is_ in your power._ Numair flicked his hands, opening a speaking-spell.

"Alanna – I need you over here. _Now!_"


	29. Meaning

Wow, I'm so sorry this one took so long. Just been crazily busy, and I go out of town, and these things just build up. But here at last, the much-desired next chapter, and I don't leave it at such a breathtaking cliffy this time, lol. It's winding up, but it's not over yet. This is mostly fun Numair thoughts and angst, I hope it's not boring, compared to all the action. And, I've got predictions for the rest of this story, layout-wise: I don't expect it to go over 35 chapters, and I do expect that it will be finished by June 8th. Because that's when I leave for camp for a month, and I really want this done by then. When I get back from camp, I'm going to go through the entire thing and do a full and complete edit. Then I'll be done, and will dedicate all my energies to entertaining oneshots. And this is a really, really long intro with lots of reviews to reply to.**  
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**Jess - **HAH, rofl, I didn't actually mean to do that, nice pun xD And I agree with the homework thing, I had two tests and a project due on the same day after I had been gone the whole weekend. Ick.

**.111, Evil Bunny of Death, xxTunstall Chickxx, Abreana, purple smurfs r real, and MoriaRownlands222 - **thank you, lol, here's the next chap, don't go too crazy!

**Fairy Lights - **Nope, spells aren't permanent, it'll just hold the dragon off so our master mage can get his power back and of course have more wonderfully cute moments with Daine. -winks-

**Cygnet Shearwater - **Haha, falling off a natural bridge, falling off a cliff - except this time everybody's present and involved the whole time. I hope you'll like how I'll end up ending it (if that made any sense at all).

**Starling Rising -** thank you, I loved writing that, it gave me chills almost. Good chills, I mean. And yeah, as much as I pity the character, the dragon's gonna have to go, and soon.

**silverflight8 - **Lol, thank you! And I never thought of it as really connecting, but now that you mention it, I see what you mean. It's like our modern world in a lot of ways, because really, even though the time period and stuff is completely different, people (or dragons) still are basically same - kind of stubborn and self-oriented, for the most part. So there will be a lot of similarities. And it's no problem, I always like getting replies to my reviews, and this is a lot easier for me than replies to each one, so it's a plus for us all!

**Horseluvr13 -** Oooh, maybe a little of both. -winks back-

**Captain Libeka - **Thank you! Same, some of my friends think it's odd or gross to, and I call them crazy. Especially considering the time period. It shouldn't matter how old they are as long as they're in love. And besides, that's part of what I really like about their relationship anyway: it shows Daine's maturity for her age, and yet still Numair has so much he can teach her, and they both complement all of each other's traits. They are perfect together, and they're just so cute. And Numair's angst about his age is so fun - I have a oneshot planned about that, but that's after this is through. And I agree, PotS was actually my least favorite of TP's series, Immortals wins by far. And yet most fanfic is about Kel xD Haha, I did a little dance when I got two hundred reviews. No one saw it though.**  
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**Hyper24 7 - **Muahaha. And yes, Numair does have magic, but I didn't have him use it in that situation for three reasons. One, he can't do everything with his magic, and as a character I don't see him completely and totally reliant on it for everything. He's also getting tired, and so wouldn't have the strength for such a large spell after shutting in the dragon. Lastly, he would also just not think in a situation like that - sometimes we don't think of things that would make our lives easier until it's too late. But mostly, it's because of the first two reasons - he's running low on power, and his magic can't do everything. Thank you!

**EDITED**

* * *

The tide was coming in. Careful not to disturb her ankle, Numair lifted Daine carried her as far away from shore as he could. Coupled with Daine's blood and the glare from the disappearing sun, the approaching waves sea looked scarlet. Kitten let out an exhausted moan, padding weakly across the sand towards them. Burying her nose in Daine's curls, she curled up by her ma's head, making soft, sad trilling noises.

Numair's heart throbbed. He didn't know what to think or feel. All that was running through his mind was Daine.

Then thoughts came rapid-fire; an endless pounding in his head. Could Alanna get here in time? Could Daine make it that long? She was still unconscious due to blood loss. Reaching over, Numair felt the makeshift bandage on her leg, and found it already saturated and useless. He tore off another strip of fabric from his cloak and pressed it to the wound, tying it off quickly. Infection could be a problem. He had rinsed the cut out with salt water, which should have helped clean it, but his cloak wasn't exactly freshly washed.

_Breathe. Don't forget to breathe._

Numair exhaled. Breathing. That would be something he'd forget about, when Daine was in danger and couldn't remind him of such things. If she were awake, she'd frown at him.

Daine made a little sound, barely audible over the roars of the ocean and the dragon, and she shifted very slightly. Instantly Numair turned. Was she waking? No. Lifting her head gently, Numair took care not to further stress her leg as he settled his arms around her and let her body fall into his. Her head fell right above his heart, and Numair closed his eyes, leaning against the hard rock of the cliff behind him. Pebbles dug painfully into his back. As he felt Daine's slow breathing and warmth heavy on his chest, the thoughts he had unconsciously been avoiding finally began to uncover themselves.

How could he have let this happen to her? If he had just turned around and caught her before she fell! Instead, he had frozen like an incompetent fool, weak and uncomprehending. Now, he was helpless. What if being in love with her meant that he couldn't protect her any longer? If his world always went so heart-stoppingly cold whenever she was in danger? _If only Daine could hear these thoughts,_ he thought, imagining her reaction with a bittersweet smile. She would be furious. She'd point out everything that was wrong with his logic. He knew her well enough to realize that she wouldn't stand for anything so silly.

But the war scared him – it seemed like it could last forever. Leaving didn't appear to be high on the priority list for the immortals. Numair wasn't scared for his own life, of course, but for other peoples' lives. For Daine's. Would she survive this? Would _they_ survive this, together? Running his hand across her cheek, Numair tucked the young wildmage's hair behind her ears. His fingers fell unconsciously to her lips, and her warm breath tickled his skin. He knew without a doubt now that she was everything to him. But she was so young, with so much of her life ahead her. There were so many decisions she still had yet to make. Making them for her, or overly influencing those decisions, was unacceptable, even if it meant that Numair had to stand by and watch his magelet fall in love with someone else. Yet right now, she always looked at him like no one else had before: like there was nothing else in the world, whether she was glaring at him furiously or worriedly, or even if she was laughing and smiling. Her beautiful face would light up like the sun when he said something that amused her, or when he practiced his abysmal riding skills.

Perhaps someday they could last. Numair held her even tighter to him, as if his touch could somehow heal her. He bent his head to press a soft kiss to her temple. Looking down, he realized with a pang that she would have another scar from this war - another reminder of the pain. The slash across her leg would never fade. Numair slid the cloak just slightly away from Daine's shoulders, revealing the crescent-shaped marks from the Hag's fingernails and the fresh arrow-wound on her collarbone. They shouldn't be there, marring her perfect skin. And Numair, too, would never even be able to look at his reflection in the mirror without seeing the constant remainder of Ozorne's wrath. It wasn't likely that he'd have forgotten anyway - wars left permanent scars on much more than just the body.

Numair prayed fervently that Alanna came soon. Squinting through the near-darkness, Numair saw no ships along the horizon, but he knew Legann wasn't too far. With Imrah's experienced seamen, good weather, no enemies, and a favorable tip from the gods, the trip couldn't be long. The rocks and tide could pose problems. Perhaps George could convince even Kyprioth to make an appearance again, as a repayment for the havoc he wreaked in the form of the Copper Isles' fleets. Numair knew that wasn't likely. Kyprioth and the Isles had vanished from the playing board, along with the Hag and their little alliance. Now all the Tortallans had to deal with was Ozorne's parting gift. If the dragon disappeared, Numair was relatively confident that many of the immortals would follow, or at the very least, stop fighting. They would have no motivation with no leader. Everything depended on getting rid of the dragon, but that couldn't be done until Numair regained his power and was able to pour all of his focus into a single spell. He couldn't do that if Daine was hurt. She occupied too much of his mind.

Memories of her floated into Numair's tired mind. She was smiling at him, lighting up the room; she was running across a field, barefoot, wild hair flying behind her as she chased after tiny, dark-haired Princess Kalasin. Numair could hear Daine's laughter and her soft words. Her stormy eyes shined with delight when she learned something new about the People, or when she listened to Numair recite myths and legends all from memory. Daine, formally dressed in a beautiful gown, her expression pouting; she didn't like such frilly clothes. So she left the ball to lay on the ground and stare at the stars. What would Numair do without her in his life? If she were to disappear?

Rocks rumbled all around them as the dragon roared again. Kitten shivered in her sleep. Looking up, Numair sent out a small strand of his Gift to his magic barrier, making sure it was still firmly in place. Everything was secure until morning at the very least. By then, Numair's spell might be weak enough for the dragon to break though, and then Numair would have to do what he had been dreading since the very idea entered his mind – he would have to drain the dragon's power. It was such a manipulative, cruel thing to do; a spell that could risk so much. But it was the only way, wasn't it?

His eyes drifted back to the stars. Littering the inky sky, those tiny spots of light illuminated the vast field of darkness, distinct, heavenly sparkles that found their way all the way down to the ground. Names of planets and constellations and the endless legends that went along with them ran through Numair's head. The Goddess. The Lion. The Hunter. Mithros. Daine had always liked the story of the Hunter the most, because according to the ancient legend, the deer he was chasing had jumped across the sky and landed on the other side of the world. But the Hunter, foolish and overconfident, tried to make the same leap, and got himself caught in the stars.

Holding Daine's body close, her hair fluttering in the breeze, balancing between life and death, Numair felt that getting caught in the stars didn't really sound so terrible. But until the war was over, the stars remained distant and cold in the dangerous expanse of the unknown. What could he do? For Daine, for his country? Numair rubbed Daine's arms as another a cool sea breeze rushed over him. Daine would probably kill him when she woke and found out what a "fuss" he had made over her, but it was instinctive. There was no point in fighting his nature.

* * *

_She was in vast land of rolling hills, the grass green and wavy in the wind. Looking down, Daine noticed that she seemed to be invisible. Or else, only her mind was there, without her body. Either way, it was a bit odd. Daine willed herself to move forward, and she did. She had never seen this place before._

_She came across a bridge that looked like it was made out of ice or glass. She was glad she had no substance now. Sailing over it, she reached a point where the crest of a hill dipped down to reveal a tiered bowl in the ground, with a pile of shiny blue stones around the edge and worn-down paths all through the center. There was no one and no animals around. Daine suddenly felt rather lonely; she wished Numair or Kitten or Cloud was with her._

_Suddenly a few shadowy shapes appeared in the distance. They were large and very familiar, with massive wings and tails and powerful bodies. Multicolored scales glittered in the strange sunlight. Daine floated towards them as they came nearer to her. Dragons. The one in the lead looked even more familiar than the rest, its scales were a contented blue, but she could still tell. It was the same one who was in Tortall. He turned to his companions and obviously spoke to them, though Daine couldn't hear. They turned and left. The one remaining closed this distance between himself and where Daine seemed to be._

_He had started to dig his claws lightly into the ground, his tail swishing back and forth, when it happened. The ground shook violently, like an earthquake, but this place felt too surreal to be subject to something so base. The dragon roared, and in the far distance other dragons rose into the air in fear. One in particular – a small one, but not as small as Kitten – came running towards the large male close to Daine. Behind the young one was another grown dragon, this one female. The ground continued to rumble and roar. Daine could see the two older dragons trying to help the little one up onto its father's back, as if planning to leave the ground that was rocking them so. But it wasn't just the ground shaking anymore, it was everything._

_And then something ripped. A giant slash cut right through the ground, under the feet of the female dragon and the baby. Empty void swallowed the two dragons, tore through the bridge and the dip in the hills, destroyed the landscape and the sky in a single slice. Most of the dragons we mere specks in the distance. But that one male – the one that was in Tortall – was standing right by the unnatural, unexplainable crevasse, digging his silver claws into the edge of the earth and roaring. His scales were no longer blue, but as black as the night. His mate and child were gone. _

_Then strands of green crept through the crack. Green magic. It snaked into the whatever world Daine was watching and slithered over the dragon's paws and into the air. Some wavered uncertainly. But the ones that had touched the dragon contracted, and bound him tight, then spread to wrap around his legs, his torso, his wings, his neck. The immortal roared again, louder than ever, and struggled to free himself. His eye were wide and panicked as he trashed._

_Daine wished fervently that she had eyes to close. It was too terrible to watch. She wanted to leave, she couldn't keep seeing this, knowing it, feeling it. The magic drowned the dragon and pulled him into the crack, but it wasn't deadly for him, like it was for his family. Daine seemed to follow him through the tear. He wasn't falling, wasn't lost in the endless space between worlds. He was being pulled, by magic that looked and felt like evil. Ozorne._

_Daine couldn't take it any longer. She didn't know what was happening, or why, or when; she didn't know anything anymore. In her mind, she screamed like the dragon and everything was swallowed by a wave of darkness._

_

* * *

_The minutes melded into hours before the ship from Legann finally came close to the rocks. The sun was barely beginning to creep above the horizon. Sleek and fast, and probably hell for Alanna, the ship was one of Legann's fastest, manned by only the finest crewmen and containing tall, fully opened white sails. Numair watched as Alanna waved jarringly from the front rim, then slid into a smaller boat which was lowered down through the sea spray. She and a few crewmen navigated carefully between the jagged rocks and waves, while the larger ship stayed moored out of the cove. Their progress was agonizingly slow. Numair's heart ached with every passing second. Kitten dozed fitfully by Daine's side, her wings twitching as the wind blew over them.

When Alanna's tiny boat finally hit the shore, the Lioness leapt out, scrambling and cursing through the foamy surf. The two men with her dragged the little yacht higher onto the shore, but Alanna headed straight towards Numair and Daine. She threw off her soaked boots and fell to her knees beside the wildmage at once. Purple fire materialized around her palms. !-- /* Font Definitions */ font-face {font-family:Verdana; panose-1:2 11 6 4 3 5 4 4 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:536871559 0 0 0 415 0;} /* Style Definitions */ , , {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";} page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} 1 {page:Section1;} -- She met Numair's eyes for a split second, her gaze intense, before turning quickly to the two crewmen who had been in the boat with her, for they were standing awkwardly on the shore awaiting orders. "You two. I want you to take the boat and go back to the ship. There's a dragon here, and I want as few people in danger as possible." The men nodded, saluted, and did as they were told, looking fearfully up at Numair's trembling rock barrier.

"I'm sorry for asking you to do this," Numair said instantly. "I know that there are other healers at Legann - "

"I don't want to hear it. This is Daine; you want the best. I understand," Alanna said shortly.

Was that a tinge of _smugness_ in her voice, Numair wondered? No. It couldn't be. Did she know? This was Alanna, after all – at many times, her life had depended on making sure that nothing in her environment escaped her notice. There was no way that she wouldn't have picked up on how oddly he had been acting lately. Numair had no idea what he would say if she brought it up, which was she was most likely going to do at some point. But even that thought was minor in his mind; he could barely think about anything other than Daine.

"Take the bandage off," ordered Alanna. "I need to see the wound."

Wordlessly, Numair did as he was told. _If only I could heal, _he thought bitterly_, I could have helped Daine long ago. _

"What did this?" Alanna asked, her face looking paler than usual in the dim violet glow from her Gift. "Goddess, we're lucky only the vein was cut, not the artery – but her ankle is fractured. And she's lost a lot of blood."

"Dragon's claws." Numair answered the first part of Alanna's statement, the last bit making his own blood run cold. When Alanna looked at him fearfully at the mention of the dragon, Numair said quickly, "We're safe for now. The dragon's trapped in the cave."

Alanna stared at him. "You trapped a _dragon_?" As Numair opened his mouth to explain, she held up a glittering hand, shaking her head. "You know what, I'm not even going to ask."

There was no need to reply, as the Lioness's attention became solely focused on Daine. Numair watched, a thousand thoughts colliding in his mind, as Alanna's magic cleaned the cut and began to repair the vein. He didn't even bother trying to make sense of them all. The healing was a slow process – so slow that Numair thought he might just crack and accidentally blow something up if he didn't know when his magelet would recover. In such a confined space, though, blowing something up would do no one any good – except possibly the dragon. Perhaps it was a good thing that Numair didn't have healing magic. He wasn't a very patient person; he was used to just snapping his fingers and having things explode the exactly way he wanted them to. Healing took cautious, enduring talent. Numair was careful not to pressure Alanna into rushing her work. Daine was her friend too, and her face was sharp with concentration. Numair knew better than anyone what strain from the continual use of magic felt like.

At last Alanna's hands dropped, coming to rest on Daine's ankle, where the skin was still soft and red but no longer bleeding. A little bit of color had come back to Daine's cheeks. Numair glanced at Alanna's face, which was turned towards the ground, and took in the way her chest was heaving with each breath. She was exhausted – did this mean good news, or bad?

"I've done as much as I can," she said at last, exhaling and looking up worriedly. "I can clean and repair the wound, get rid of the infection, repair most of the fracture, and we can wrap it up to keep the break from getting worse. But there's no way to restore lost blood."

"Will she be all right?"

Alanna met his gaze squarely now, her eyes as piercing and intense as they always were. Numair felt she could see right through him at times; the way Daine always did. It was as if the Lioness was sizing him up, deciding on what to say – a kind lie, or the whole truth. "She's strong. Chances are, she'll pull through, but I don't know. You can never know for sure."

Numair breathed out, relief creeping its way into his heart. Daine _was_ strong; she would make it through. Rather suddenly, Alanna put her hand on Numair's shoulder, and Numair smiled, lifting her hand and kissing it like they were at court instead of on a tiny beach with a deadly dragon and an injured friend. "Thank you," said Numair.

The Lioness snorted and pulled her hand out of his. She then placed it on his chest, tiny strands of purple fire escaping from her fingertips. "No thanks necessary. I don't want Daine injured, either." The threads of her Gift tickled Numair's body, and he frowned.

"Alanna? What are you doing?"

"I was hoping you wouldn't ask," she muttered. "I'm checking to see if you need any healing. No, don't argue! I wish I could help Kitten, as well, but I can't heal immortals. Look, Numair, knowing you, you've probably put all your energy into finding and taking care of Daine that you haven't paid any attention to yourself and your strength in the past twelve hours. I'm right, and you know it."

Numair sighed. She knew him too well. All the same, he glared at her and attempted to push her hands away. "Kitten will be all right. And I have not completely ignored myself, I promise. Save your strength; use it on Daine. She needs it more than I do."

"Numair, if you pass out cold out of exhaustion, what good will that do anyone? What good will that do _Daine_? Do you want her to wake up without you by her side?"

There was a pause. Numair had been fully intending to respond with a stubborn no, but Alanna was right; he couldn't make Daine awake alone, not after so long unconscious. "That's unfair," he said, irritated.

"I know," Alanna said, a smile flickering at the corner of her lips. She narrowed her eyes and Numair felt a warm tingling spread throughout his body. Unwillingly, Numair realized almost at once that the healing did make him feel much, much better, in just a few moments.

_It's not for me, it's for Daine, _he told himself firmly, holding the wildmage more securely in his arms. Numair almost bent and kissed her again, stopping himself only once he remembered Alanna's presence. Apparently unaware of his odd half-movement, Alanna motioned towards the edge of the cloak that Numair had given Daine. Numair hurried to rip off yet another strip of cloth.

"That cloak is going to be reduced to nothing by the time we're through with it," Alanna commented, nodding towards the countless rips, tears, and smudges of dirt and sand.

"Better to ruin one completely than to ruin five half-way, I figure."

"If you say so." Alanna began wrapping Daine's ankle, very tightly, so that the bone would have support. She nodded her head up towards Numair. "Lift her leg so I can wrap this all the way around."

Numair hesitated for only a split second – Daine's _leg_, almost completely bare – but Numair did as he was told, his hands on Daine's knee while Alanna tied off the bandage. When she was done, Numair rubbed his hands softly over the bandage and her ankle, knowing that it helped to get blood flowing again. He was barely aware of Alanna's eyes following his every move.

He knew Daine would recover, and he knew that – together – they could find a way to save their country. They always found a way. But Numair had no way of knowing if this was just one strike too many for them to take.


	30. Decision

Here you go, next chapter. We're getting so close, guys! And of course, finals are coming up at the same time! Oh, yay. -sarcasm- Hooray for a shorter A/N on this one too. But keep the reviews coming - I like that part!**  
**

**Hyper24 7 - **You gotta have a balance! -smiles- A TON has been happening lately, so they deserve a break, even a really angsty one. But don't worry, stuff happens here. Thank you!

**Jess - **Running next to horses? Wow. That's pretty intense. You're like Daine reincarnated! Lol, thank you, don't forget to sleep! (I do that a lot).

**purple smurfs r real and .111 - **Here is more, I hope you enjoy!**  
**

**Fairy Lights and xxTunstall Chickxx - **I know. Don't you love 'em? -hugs- thank you!

**Starling Rising - **I guess some might see them in these chapters as too close, but I always thought of their friendship as very strong. It's just my characterization, I know not everyone's view is the same. It's funny, really, that despite his reputation, Numair's closest friends are women: Onua and Alanna. (not including Daine, of course). I imagine that Alanna does know Numair really, really well, and she's just a very smart and observant person. So that's why I stick everything between them that I do. I love relationships between characters, and not just romantic ones, so it's really good to stick a good friend in there. The fact that Alanna's a married woman just makes it all the more amusing to me. 'Cause Numair is still a flirt. xD And don't worry, Numair'll get his scolding, and somehow get rid of the dragon. Eventually.

**Tearainy -** thank you so much!

**EDITED**

* * *

Alanna was watching him carefully as Numair continually twitched and changed his sitting position, straightening against the rocky cliff and stretching his long legs. Numair could feel the Lioness's gaze on him whenever Daine moved unconsciously and slid closer to Numair in her sleep. But neither mage nor knight broke the silence. They listened only to the crashing of the waves and the dragon's growing rumbling, a steady rhythm in the air. Noticing Alanna's continued glances at the cliff, Numair sighed. He'd have to explain at some point. "My barrier will not hold indefinitely."

"What are you planning?" asked Alanna. Her expression was serious and calculating. She was probably trying to think of any strategical advantages they had over the dragon. There were not very many - they were below an airborne opponent with an unconscious companion. Or, in other words, in an all-around terrible position. "Just wait for it to come out and shoot it down?" said the Lioness, very wryly.

Numair frowned, his voice matching hers in dryness. "No. We had decided that we'd use a sort of draining spell." He waited for harsh words or fear, but of course, almost nothing made the Lioness balk. Her gaze was surprised, but not afraid.

"That's dangerous magic," she said at last. But she shrugged. "If that's the only way, then so mote it be."

Numair raised an eyebrow. No one could be completely unperturbed by dark magic. "You don't have a problem with that spell? At all?"

Alanna shrugged, her face impassive. "If you two talked it out, then I trust your judgment. I know Daine would never agree if it wasn't the only option. And I've had to do a fair share of things I don't like in order to help a greater good." She titled her head as she studied him. "The first thing that came to my mind was a sense of awe. You have so much power, Numair, I sometimes wonder why you don't just take over all of Tortall yourself."

Numair was about to reply with open-mouthed indignation, but he realized that Alanna was smiling – she was jesting. Numair shook his head and smiled. "I wouldn't give a copper to become king. It would be awful. I don't envy Jon's position right now."

"Right about that," the Lioness said quietly as she glanced back over the ocean. It was hard to believe that there was a battle only a few leagues away, everyone they loved trapped in the midst, and an increasingly large horde of immortals flooding in to their homeland.

Unconsciously, Numair rubbed his thumb gently under Daine's palm, drawing soft circles on her skin. He didn't notice Alanna's eyes fixed on him, tracking his every move.

"You're in love with her, aren't you?"

_She had to ask at some point,_ Numair thought. He almost grinned. As nerve-wracking as the question was – as much as he knew he should evade, lie, deny, wait for Daine to wake – at the moment, Numair just didn't have the energy. Glancing over at the Lioness, it was clear from the glitter in her eyes that she already knew the answer. Numair nodded, looking at her apologetically. What use was anything else? He didn't know what to say, in any case. He could guess what she was going to say - "Fourteen years," or "She's too young," or "You'll break her heart."

But Numair waited a few moments - and no such rebuke came. Instead, Alanna was masterfully failing to hide her smile. He had not expected that.

"And you've told her, haven't you?" she asked earnestly.

"Do we have to talk about this now?" Numair replied, slightly exasperated. He spoke softly, as if someone near them was listening in on their conversation. Heat crept into his face. He was acting stupid. The embarrassment, which was an irritation he had held at bay for only a few moments, was starting to catch up with him.

Alanna simply raised an eyebrow, as though daring him to cross her. No one crossed the Lioness and made it out unscathed.

It was better to not take the risk. "All right. You win; I'll talk. How is it that you always know these things?" Numair asked. It was almost scary, how much she knew, but at the same time convenient – he didn't have to _say_ anything and she would just _know_.

"If you hadn't told her, you wouldn't still be holding her like that once you knew she was going to be all right," Alanna pointed out. "You wouldn't have wanted her to know, so you'd have been going out of your way to hide it from her." Her gaze swept over them, over Numair's long legs stretched out on the sand and Daine's body curled tightly under Numair's arms, her head resting on his chest. "That's not out of your way," the Lioness finished.

"Point taken," muttered Numair dryly.

The knight let out a sigh, though she was smiling. "There will be a better time for this kind of discussion, Numair. You be good to her, and I'll be happy for you."

Numair glanced at her sidelong. "You might be the only one."

"Do you really think that? Numair, Thayet and Onua have been predicting this since the trip to Carthak. No offense meant, but only a blind fool hasn't noticed something between you and Daine. If Jon has a problem, I'll just disarm him and ask him for a private word when there's no soldiers nearby to arrest me for vulgarity and assualt."

"The King of Tortall is a blind fool, then?"

"Of course."

"Thank you, Alanna," said Numair.

She shrugged and poked his shoulder. "It's about time, anyway. A couple weeks longer and I would have owed George five gold pieces. You're going to have to help me make sure I get my money when I get back."

"I'm so glad I could be a source of income," replied Numair dryly. "How many other people are going to earn money out of this?"

"Onua wanted to bet with someone that Jon wouldn't pick up on it. But no one would take it because everyone agreed with her."

"Thayet should have taken the bet and then told Jon."

"That's a cheat."

"You forget, I spent time on the streets. I know how to make money," Numair said. A sudden, random thought found its way into his mind. Would Daine have loved him when he was Arram? Escaping from Carthak? Now that he thought about it, she was only eight years old when he was trying to survive in Tortall's slums. Fourteen years. So much time they hadn't known each other - and yet now, he couldn't imagine his world without her. Years ago, he never would have thought he could meet someone like her. Just months ago he was still finding himself with a different court lady every night like any other rich man working for the king. He knew others' opinions of him. A Player, a fool. But Daine? What did she think of him?

There was no time for such thoughts now. Not during a war. Alanna shifted on the ground beside him, placing two fingers on Daine's wrist to feel her pulse, then relaxing again.

Numair didn't know how long they sat there, silent. He was glad that Alanna didn't start another conversation. But he knew that their luck was running out – and quickly. He could feel his own spell deteriorating. The dragon let out its loudest roar yet, making Kitten wake and squeal, her scales turning bright pink. Everything from the treetops to the sand shook violently, like an earthquake running through the ground. Alanna jumped up, fingering her sword hilt.

"It's not going to hold, is it?" she asked quietly. "Your barrier?" She flashed a glance at him, and Numair could tell that the exact same thoughts were going through both of their minds. _What would they do when the dragon broke free?_

Numair's heart went icy and cold, despite the rising sun. Did he have the energy to restrain a dragon? Would the spell even work? What would be the price? Would they all make it through? He wasn't even at full strength – he had rested, but not slept. But what he had would have to be enough. If all else failed, Numair knew that he would not hesitate to dip into his life-force. If that was necessary, then he would do it. There wasn't another option. Because if he didn't defeat the dragon, all of Tortall would suffer. Daine would suffer.

_And that's unacceptable,_ Numair thought, rubbing his face and feeling too many days' worth of dirty scruff under his bare hands. Alanna looked at him again, and Numair saw the same fear and uncertainty that he himself was feeling reflected in the Lioness's violet eyes. There was far, far too much at stake.

* * *

Pain. That was the first thing that Daine felt. But it was dull and bearable; nothing like the Hag's clenching fingernails back in the desert, or silver dragon's claws slashing through her flesh. The next sense that returned to Daine was smell; she became aware of salt and dust all around her. Then sounds came back. There were rumblings and rustlings somewhere around or above her, she couldn't quite tell. Finally, the blackness began to dissolve, and her vision returned to show her a pale blue sky and the first rays of the sun struggling to rise over the distant horizon.

Sudden images flashed inside her mind, bright and oddly painful. A slash, falling, more pain… and then nothing.

Daine let out a small moan, unable to articulate her thoughts and feelings into clear words quite yet. She was aware of and grateful to a pair of strong, warm arms that tightened around her at the tiny noise she'd made. Someone was protecting her. Or guarding her, maybe. Either way, it was peaceful – no dragons, no cliffs, no magical crevasses in the ground, no _anything _that was dangerous. For a moment, Daine reveled in that thought – that she was completely safe, with no worries, responsibilities, or concerns.

But slowly, her mind began to clear. The strong arms were part of a strong body that was cradling her gently, like she was the most precious thing in the world. The feeling was comfortable and familiar. She forced her eyes to open fully, the brightness blinding her, and she blinked.

"Daine?"

That voice. It was soft, cautious, but she could hear the anxiety in it. She always could. Daine found that she had the strength to smile, feeling gentle hands behind her head and shoulders. She was lifted up so that she was sitting straighter, which made blood to rush painfully to her head. Daine shut her eyes tight again, fighting to stay conscious through the renewed pain.

"Numair, don't move her. Keep her very still. Daine?"

Daine recognized that voice too. How did Alanna get there? She wasn't there before, as far as Daine could recall. Vaguely, she realized that the purple glow in her blurred vision must be Alanna's magic. Sure enough, her head soon began to clear due to the effects of the healing, and Daine felt strength returning to her body, little by little. But her ankle still throbbed. She managed to groan, grimacing slightly and struggling to keep her eyes open. Daine tried to lift her hand to feel the bandages tight on her leg, but Numair grabbed her wrist, still holding her close.

"Don't move. You're more tired than you think, magelet."

"Numair?" she said softly. The only thing she could think of.

He didn't answer, but he slid his hand from her wrist to lock their fingers together. For the first time in what felt like ages, she looked at him, everything else in the world vanishing around her. His dark hair was messy and tangled, like she knew hers would be, too, and his eyes were filled with concern. The criss-crossing scars on his cheek from Ozorne's shoe seemed brighter than ever against his tanned skin. Numair leaned forward and kissed her lightly, like he was scared that anything more would hurt her. He rested his forehead against hers; Daine could hear his deep breathing. She could feel his breath tickling her skin. She didn't know that Alanna was watching with a tense but pleased expression on her face, she didn't know that a dragon was screaming above her, she didn't know of anything except him. Her everything.

"Thank the gods, Daine," Numair murmured quietly.

Strength and consciousness began to return more quickly. Daine leaned forward and kissed him back, memories flooding back as well. She had to make sure he was really there; that this wasn't some kind of dream conjured up by her dying mind. After being slashed by dragon and falling off a cliff, she didn't have a very good measure of reality anymore. If this wasn't the truth, then what did she have to believe in? She'd have nothing.

But she knew he was real. Ignoring the weakness and the pain, she gripped his thin shirt to hold him to her. She didn't want to leave his arms. But Numair unwound her tight fingers and pulled away, his eyes gleaming black with a whirlwind of emotions. She could see love. But she could also see fear. Worry and anxiety and love.

She was missing something. Apprehension settled over her. "Numair – what's wrong?"

Her question was answered before she had the chance to finish it. An angry roar, loud and vibrant, resonated though the air; she winced and glanced up, the sound and movement making her head pound. _The dragon. _She didn't know what had happened to it. But it was clearly not dead, banished, or debilitated.

"It's time." Numair's voice was low and urgent. "We have to. We have to drain its power."

Her dream – her dream, or vision, or whatever it had been that Daine had seen. Everything flooded back, the pain, the tear in the ground, the falling dragons, the green magic inching up to trap the dragon and drag him, not into a void of nothingness, but into the Mortal Realms.

"His," she said, out of instinct. "No, no, we can't. He was forced here. Torn – torn from his home, his children, he was forced here – I saw it happen."

"Daine, we have no other choice. I'm so sorry."

Numair was right, Daine knew. The thought still made her heart ache. Moving her arms, Daine pressed her palms against the soft sand, rising shakily to her feet. "Let me help."

"No," said Alanna fiercely, standing and steadying her. Numair scrambled to his feet too, placing his hands firmly on Daine's shoulders, though his touch was still gentle. She could tell they didn't have much time.

"Daine," he said quietly as she leaned against his body to keep weight off of her aching foot. She shivered at the intensity of his voice, a level of pain and love that sent chills down her spine. He rubbed his hands along her back and shoulders. "Daine, I need you – I need you to stay back. You don't have the strength to stand right now, much less fight - "

"No," she said instantly. Right when she woke up, he had to leave? Everything was happening too fast; she couldn't comprehend it all. She just wanted him. It was too much. "No! I'm – I'm not going to leave you."

Kitten rubbed against Daine's good leg, her scales cool and comforting, and Daine looked down. Numair took her chin with his hand and titled her head up. "Promise me, Daine. Keep Kitten with you and stay back."

_Stay back?_

The roars grew even louder. Numair winced visibly, and Daine's heart panged. She was exhausted. One decision – only seconds of time – stay or go. A war, she remembered; it was all about decisions. Numair wouldn't fight unless he knew Daine was safe. "If I don't have the strength to fight with you, how do I have the strength to go anywhere other than here?" she asked.

"You'll be staying here," he said, his words coming fast. He pulled her back down to the sand softly, pain in his eyes. He lifted and hand and cupped her cheek. "Promise me, magelet. Stay here."

She didn't understand. She was still in plain sight if the dragon was in the air, and she had no strength to escape. What was he planning? He and Alanna weren't invincible. "Don't leave me," she said helplessly. What else was there to say? To ask?

He brushed damp, salty hair off of her forehead, and brought his lips back down to hers for one light, final kiss. "Stay here," he said. He grasped her hand, and Daine felt a tiny spark flow through her palm, but it was gone so quickly she almost thought she had imagined it. Kitten whistled beside her, anguished. Daine closed her eyes. Only minutes awake, and she was crying. Only minutes awake, and Numair wasn't by her side. Only minutes awake, and everything was crumbling down.

What a wonderful world to wake to. There was nothing she could do, alone and weak. Holding Kitten close, Daine stopped trying to prevent the silent tears, and instead watched as Numair and Alanna's Gifts began to glimmer in the air. Numair looked back over his shoulder at her, a clear message in his eyes. _I'm sorry. _

It had to be done. _A necessity,_ Daine thought miserably._ Numair taught me that word._ She tried to meet his gaze, but he had turned back around, his magic getting brighter. A final tear slid down her face, and she brushed the rest away, determined. Even if she couldn't do anything, she wouldn't be weak. She wouldn't break. At this point, it was all she could promise herself.

The rocks in the cliff shattered apart with a sound like powerful thunder. Sunlight glared blindingly off of vivid red scales.

The dragon was free.

He flung open its wings, letting out a cry that seemed like it could be heard across the entire world. Daine tried to reach into his mind – to touch upon those memories that someone had shown her while she slept – but his mind was closed, taken over by fury. Daine had to cut off her wild magic; the dragon's presence was too much strain. Biting back a yell, she held the squirming Kitten firmly in her arms.

_Stupid._ She should be the one fighting, dealing with an immortal in the ways no one else could. But instead, it was Numair in danger, Numair and Alanna fighting, when she should be there to help them. Should be doing something. _Anything. _But she was helpless - helpless to fight, helpless to stand next to Numair like she always did. She _hated_ being useless. She had no control over anything any longer – she put her trust completely in him. Like she always did.

She trusted him with her life. But his? She didn't trust him to bring_ himself_ though. He always would try to do too much, risking everything to help someone else, sacrificing everything to help her, whether he had the power to or not. Stupid man. The stupid man that she loved. What if he gave his life to protect her, like he had almost done so many times before?

It scared her more than she thought was ever possible, her heart freezing over at even the thought.


	31. Time

I think this is the second-to-last chapter, guys. Wow. Probably only one more to go, maybe two. But anyway - a ton of stuff happens here, and I hope it makes sense and that there aren't too many loopholes. So hard coming up with something new for an ending! These last few chaps haven't been as good as my others, and I'm not crazy about this one either, but I really hope it works.

**Fariy Lights -** I have a thing for cliffies, I think. Lol, yeah, Alanna's pretty brilliant, mainly cause she's got no problem speaking her mind. At all. And wait, which part was Numair stupid in? xD I'm kinda slow so I'm not seeing it but if it's OOc I want to fix it when go through and edit in a few weeks. And the tiny ship Alanna came on is still at the beach - probably floating away or getting incinerated - and the big ship is still out a little farther, with those dumb sailors too terrified to try and do anything to help.

**xxTunstall Chickxx, MoriaRownlands222, Panda Blitz, and purple smurfs r real -** thank you so much, update's for you!

**.111 and Evil Bunny of Death - **She'll make it through! As much as I love torturing my characters, I can't kill of the leads.

**Starling Rising - **thank you tons, little things like that are so fun to add into a story. Unfortunately, not much comic releif here, but hey, what can you do when you're fighting a deadly dragon.

**Cygnet Shearwater - **Thank you thank you thank you! Phew, glad I'm not the only one who thinks they're close.

**weeblz-kat - **Fluff makes everyone happy. And it made perfect sense, thank you!

**Jess -** I'm skipping out on studying to write, nothing is more important than fanfic, huh? Thanks so much!!

**Captain Libeka - **Thank you, for both the compliment and the luck, I'm going to need it. I'll probably be done with this by next week when finals start, though, so I'll entertain myself during tests by scribbling ideas for TP oneshots.

**EDITED**

* * *

_Everything comes down to this_, thought Numair. Either he had strength or not. His Gift, combined with Alanna's, should be enough to fell a dragon, even though they were both exhausted. But he himself had never used this particular spell before; he had only studied its practice and theory. What were its true effects in the world? Just the idea of the possible consequences made Numair's heart pound erratically in his chest.

And Daine. Even if Numair survived the dragon encounter, it wouldn't really matter, because she was undoubtedly going to murder him afterwards. She would _not_ be happy when she found out, as was inevitable, about the shielding spell he had just placed upon her. But between her safety and her anger? He knew what he would pick over anything. Even if it meant losing her love. Anything was worth the risk as long as she was safe. Numair's magic was strong enough that he knew the dragon couldn't penetrate the shield, but he knew the disadvantage to that as well. Daine was essentially trapped in the confines of the spell. Caged. Was it too much, to do that to her?

_No time to worry,_ thought Numair bitterly._ Only to act._

Small details about their surroundings suddenly became very apparent to Numair. He noticed the fineness and paleness of the sand below their feet, the sharp gray and black lines that twisted in the veins of the towering rocks around them, and the steady pound and whistles of the blue-green, foaming ocean waves. The sky was bright with gentle morning light. Overall, it would have been a very beautiful place, if there hadn't been an impending battle with a deadly dragon.

Glancing at Alanna, Numair realized that the Lioness was waiting for him to lead. He was the one with the knowledge of the spell, while she could provide the extra power to drain and banish. Numair forced his brain into action and tapped into the stores of his Gift. He brought out every bit of power he had, even keeping his life-force at the ready. The scene was frozen, two mages standing firmly in the sand with the dragon hovering over their heads. Daine was a few yards away. With a fierce howl, the dragon dove, shining silver claws extended.

Numair leapt to the side to avoid the strike. He hit the ground and scrambled back up again, just barely hearing Alanna's shouts and Daine's screams. The dragon stood in the sand on its hind legs and beat its wings fiercely against the ground, its eyes gleaming madly. It blew the sand into a tornado, blinding Numair almost completely and stinging his eyes, an inconvenience he couldn't afford. Coughing and catching only a mouthful of dry sand instead of air in his throat, Numair flashed out his Gift and cleared the sand away. But he still held back from draining spell. _Is this really the only way?_

"Numair!" Alanna shouted, breaking into his thoughts. "_Do something!_"

Numair barely had time to get out of the way again as the dragon's strong tail lashed in his direction before whipping around and heading towards Alanna. The massive immortal had an unusual war strategy, Numair noticed: it was trying to get rid of them both at the same, instead of just picking off the bigger threat first. The dragon had the vastly superior strength and speed to succeed at its task, too; Numair knew that he and Alanna could not compete much longer. The dragon roared and reared on its hind legs again, trying to slash the two mages with its claws, and Numair realized something. The dragon was trying to frighten them as well as attack by displaying its towering size and immense strength. But as a tradeoff, it – _no,_ _he_, thought Numair, remembering Daine's constant corrections - exposed his tender underbelly, leaving himself extremely vulnerable.

Numair raised his hands and slashed them through the air, a silent signal to Alanna. His mouth was too dry from the sandstorm to shout. He felt strange as he poured his Gift into the air, as though he were watching himself as an outside observer. Or a student again, reading a book on a difficult spell. Time seemed to move slowly, his mind disengaged from the harsh reality of what he was doing. It was too real, too unlike the familiar classroom setting, and his mind refused to process everything at the right speed.

_It had better be enough._

First. Numair formulated the spell in his mind, then pushed it out, watching Alanna's violet Gift combine almost instantly in the air with the sparkling black of his own magic, strengthening it. They had only seconds now. A tiny window of opportunity while the dragon was still on his hind paws.

"_Now!_" screamed Numair. He jerked his hands, pulled their combined magics around the dragons and back towards himself, the draining spell firmly in place. The magic swirled around the dragon's body and spread like a rope of fire. The dragon roared furiously, its head, wings, tail, and paws barely visible.

Instantly, power began to fill Numair's body. It was effortless, easy; the strength flooded into him like it had never belonged anywhere else. And he could see the dragon weakening before his eyes already. Threads of copper-red fire mingled with the sparkling black and violet of his and Alanna's magic, which was tightening viciously around the dragon's body like a suit of chainmail. A long, thick stream extended from the dragon's chest to Numair's hands, and all of the immortal's power was pouring from its heart and into Numair, filling him with a kind of strength he could never have imagined. He could do _anything_. he could use the strength to control all of Tortall, the world, even the _gods_ would be powerless, compared to him -

_That's the danger,_ his inner, calmer self reminded him. An image of Daine appeared in mind's eye. _That's the danger of this spell, remember? The dragon is weak, and you are strong. Send it home._

Numair knew that it was time to initiate the next part of their plan. Closing his eyes, he forced his newfound strength out through his fingertips, crafting his power into the banishing spell – which was a much simpler, easier piece of magic than the draining spell had been. Pushing away the magic as hard as he could, Numair forced the flow of the magic to reverse and circle the powerless dragon, a terrifying creature reduced to nothing but feeble moans and gasps. But something wasn't working.

No matter how much strength Numair fed into the banishing spell, nothing happened. It was as if the spell was merely reflecting off the dragon's magic-coated scales. _This can't be happening,_ Numair thought, panicked.

Suddenly Alanna collapsed beyond him. Numair's mind spun, uncomprehending. Two things did not make sense. Nothing should resist his empowered magic – the draining spell had worked easily, and it had been the most difficult part of their plan. And nothing should fell the Lioness. _Nothing._

Yet this dragon was doing both.

What felt like a true physical weight seemed to crash down onto Numair's shoulders. It was all of the dragon's strength, all with him, every last drop; his body couldn't take it. Numair bit back a scream as paralyzing pain shot through his limbs. He felt like the whole world was pressing down on his back, forcing him to fall to his knees. Without Alanna, he held the strain of the spell all on his own. He alone held all of the dragon's power as he still tried to cling to the banishing spell, hoping against hope that it would somehow take hold before he was crushed by the invisible strength. Numair felt a tug at his life-force, but he held on, waiting; maybe the banishment would take more time than he had expected. But the pressure on top of him built, nearly unendurable. His knees were digging harshly into the sand and his head was forced down to the ground. Through it all, Numair maintained the spell desperately, refusing to let go of their only chance to get rid of the immortal. It didn't matter if it wasn't working yet, it _would, _it _had_ to-

The pull on Numair's life-force became suddenly stronger, and the dragon let out a weak moan. To Numair, it felt like hours; hours since he had seen Daine open her eyes again and felt the rush of hope in his chest, hours since he had shielded her and began the final stand. And it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Through his clouding vision, Numair he saw his Gift glimmering the air, around the dragon, still useless. He had to notice something new, something that hadn't planned on. The dragon shuddered and struggled as hard as it could against the sparkling bonds, but its feet appeared fixed to the sand, limp and completely immobile.

_That was it._

Something was wrong with the banishing spell, but Numair's magic was still having an effect. The dragon couldn't move. It was like it was stuck between the Realms of the Living and the Realms of the Gods.

_Why?_ Numair wanted to scream. _By the Gods, can't you just take him already_? And in any case, what good was a frozen dragon if Alanna was out cold and Numair couldn't contain the power all on his own?

The fiery, heart-stopping pain burned through his entire body again. He shook with the effort to control it, to stop himself from collapsing on the sand. _The higher you start, the harder you fall,_ he thought bitterly. It was one of the earliest lessons he'd learned_._ There was too much power inside him now, and he was suffering the consequences.

He knew he couldn't take it much longer. Roars of the ocean, the dragon, and his own pounding blood echoed in his ears, and his vision started to turn foggy and dark, as if a stormy night were rolling in with the tide. Thoughts of Daine interrupted his control of the spell, and it took what felt like the very last of his strength to maintain it for each passing second. He would _not_ let it go. He would not surrender to the incredible force of pure power shoved onto his body.

Images of Daine flashed through his mind; hear her voice and feel her touch as everything began to fade. He almost thought he heard her whispering his name. In his mind's eye, she was calling to him, waving and smiling in an empty, grassy field. _Don't people say you see images of loved ones when you die?_

"_Numair!_"

Someone said his name again. It was Daine, her clear voice cutting through the haze, straight to his consciousness.

* * *

"Numair!" Daine yelled, staggering to her feet. She gasped in pain as her left leg gave out; she bit her lip to hold back a scream. Blood trickled into her mouth. Kitten trilled and nudged her foot tenderly.

Her pain must nothing compared to Numair's. He was on the ground, his body tense and curled like something were pushing against him to keep him there. Numair didn't seem to hear her. She forced herself up, shouting again. "_Numair!_"

_Please, hear me. _It was torture, to be so far apart from him while he was in pain. She wanted to be near him to support him, give him strength, and fight together like they always did. _The dragon's not moving,_ she realized, scanning the scene and trying to be analytical. But it was hard when her gaze kept fixing on Numair, burdened and anguished. She didn't want to see him hurt. _If I can get over there while the dragon's immobilized, I can help._ _If I can get over there._

Quickly she glanced down at her leg, assessing its condition. There was no time to let an injury hold her back. She threw her arms out to steady herself – and met what felt like solid air.

What was _that_?

She pushed again, grimacing, but couldn't break through the strange barrier. It was like there was a clear globe of glass all around her, restraining both her and Kitten. The dragonet growled and leapt forward, but she bounced backwards, tumbling over her tail.

"Numair!" Daine screamed again, panicked and irrational. His head turned, and Daine pressed her palms against the solid air, trying to communicate.

And then she felt it. A familiar warm tingle ran through her fingers and throughout her body, sparking memories and ideas. This was _Numair's_ magic around her. She'd know it anywhere – how many times had she felt it, placed on her or in the air? It was Numair who was restraining her. She was _caged_. A jolt of great emotion shot through her heart, mixed hurt and anger. "Let me go," she said fiercely, before remembering how far apart they were. Daine spoke loudly, tears welling in her eyes against her will. "Let me go!"

The magic didn't vanish. But Numair had heard, for he kept his gaze fixed on her, and Daine could see clearly the indecision and suffering in his gaze. His head dropped a little bit closer to the ground, forced there by something that Daine couldn't see.

She met his eyes without flinching. "Something's wrong, Numair, you know it. It's not working. And power – power alone isn't going to fix it, because there's something different about this, so think about all the laws of magic, everything you know! Take the spell off me. If you lose control of your power - " The thought made her throat clench. "If you lose control, the dragon will be free and your gods-cursed shield will be gone anyway. You keep up the other spell and let me help you! I'll think of some way to make this work!" she said, desperate.

Numair's eyes closed tightly, another expression of pain flashing across his face, but the shield was still in place_. Stupid, stupid man, _Daine thought bitterly, praying he heard all of her words. _He _has_ to listen._

"Trust - " she began quietly. Cursing, she yelled over the dragon's howls, her voice cracking with emotion. "Trust me!"

Now Numair's eyes opened again, and the indecision was back. Daine waited, holding her breath, knowing there were only moments before the strain became too much for him. _Hold on._

Beneath her palms, the spell fell away at last, sending her falling into the sand with barely having enough time to brace herself with her arms. Her sliced ankle hit the ground hard and she gasped, a paralyzing shock shooting up her body in a blinding flash. As the throbbing subsided enough for her to think, Daine stood back up again, dragging herself forward. She had to reach Numair. Looking down, she saw Kitten staying beside her, supporting her hurt leg with every step, and a wave of love and fear for her Kit crashed over her, like the waves of the sea still pounding the rocks behind her. She wanted the dragonet to stay behind, but she knew there was no chance; it was pointless to even try.

The pain made everything almost surreal. Daine came to Numair's side, the dragon and magic fading away as she dropped to the ground beside him and gripped his hand. Once again, she felt his magic under her fingertips, only now it was so much stronger, a pulsing, fiery rhythm against her skin. She held him tightly, meeting his eyes and seeing in them everything that they couldn't say.

"Think," she said softly, forcefully. "Time to think, right? What could be holding the dragon back from going home? What's something we've forgotten, about this spell, or about – about big magics?" Daine gripped Numair's hand more tightly, trembling from more than just the constant throbbing in her leg. "Remember what you taught me? Everything has to be balanced," she whispered, closing her eyes and listing off everything she knew about magic. Like he so often did. "Strength comes from a person's inherent ability, not a spell. Every spell has an equal counteraction somewhere else in the world."

This was his specialty, not hers. But now she was fighting for both of them. Numair's breathing was heavy in the air. Daine snapped her eyes open. "Numair – what's the balance? What balance keeps this spell working?"

By the sudden, new expression on Numair's face, Daine knew that he was thinking about something – something important. _The missing link._ Just in time.

"It has – to take – something with it," panted Numair. Daine could hear the pain, just in his voice, and it made her breath catch. "Something – connected. That's the balance – like a revenge. In order – in order to go back, it has – to bring something from this world – with it. It ties the worlds together – so a transfer – is possible."

"Something has to be… connected? Not just a stone, or sand? What d'you – what do you mean, connected?"

Numair's lips curved into a tiny, bittersweet smile. "It's me, magelet."

"What?" she answered. _No_, her mind instantly started its protests. _No._

"I'm the balance," he panted, his voice getting weaker with every word. "I'm connected – by the magic – and I'll go with it. Won't – it won't take long." He dropped her hand. "Love you, magelet. I'm – I'm so sorry."

"No," Daine said angrily. "You can't, Numair, you – you _can't_ – stop the spell!"

He shook his head weakly. "Stay back."

_Last time I did that you put a shield around me, wasting time and wasting strength,_ she thought bitterly, feeling unconscious tears streaking down her face. _Never again._ He was too noble. He would never do anything to risk harming her – so she had to do it herself.

Daine tore her gaze away from him and the strands of magic that tied him to the dragon. Gasping with every other step, she ran, not caring about the pain or the danger. The dragon's giant head was now lying weakly on the ground, its great gleaming eyes a mixture of emotions, just like any humans'. _I'm sorry,_ Daine thought. Its mind was still blocked off. She reached out and placed her hands on its scales, almost flinching away. The scales were red-hot, scalding her palms, like metal left out in the sun for too long. Vaguely she registered Numair's voice, screaming out her name, but it didn't matter. Just like she'd hoped, her wild magic formed a connection with the dragon – a stronger one than Numair's.

_I'm sorry,_ she thought again, no longer sure who she was thinking about. Numair, Kitten, Cloud, Onua… everyone who she wouldn't get to see again. There wasn't time for second thoughts.

She felt a pull, starting at the corners of her senses and forcing its way inward towards her heart and her wellspring of copper fire. Her limbs started to feel fuzzy, as if they were asleep. Her eyes blurred, the dragon's image flickering. Was this it? Was this really her time to go? Were they going to the Divine Realms, or was she going to the Peaceful Realms? _Maybe I'll get to meet my parents. I'll get to talk to my da for the first time._

Suddenly her numb legs gave out, and she slipped backwards, her hand falling off the dragon's scalding neck. Drops of blood from her ankle scattered onto the dragon's claws. As soon as they touched, Daine felt a tiny sliver of strength return, and her vision cleared – but the _dragon_ was still fading.

_My blood,_ she realized slowly. _My blood can be a connection. _

She didn't know why, and she didn't know how. It didn't matter. The fuzzy pinpricks were starting to disappear from her arms. Daine leaned forward, gritted her teeth, and tore the bandages off her leg, letting the blood flow openly onto the dragon's front paw and claws. The shock made her mind instantly hazy, but it was a different kind of haze, not like before. Her vision was mix of black and red. Daine breathed in deeply and steadily, determined to stay awake for as long as she could.

The blood melted into the dragon's skin and stained the silver of its claws. It roared, a final protest, but Daine's blood was enough. Just before she lost consciousness – just before everything went black and silent – she heard one last sound, a screech of agony and grief, high-pitched and powerful. For a split second, the dragon's mind was open to her, and she didn't have the strength to block it. Waves of emotion and images flooded her mind. Baby dragons playing in open fields, peace, soaring through open skies. And then it was all lost in a tear of green fire, leading to nothing but pain, fear, and death.

_I'm sorry, _thought Daine. Tears were falling from her eyes again.

A single silver claw remained on the bloodstained sand, sparkling against the speckled red. Daine's eyes closed, exhaustion taking over her at last.


	32. Epilogue

Well, here it is. THE FINAL CHAPTER. Guys, this has been so much fun, a wonderful ride for my first story here! I've really enjoyed this overall. Sometimes I hated it. Not usually though! Sorry this one took a little longer - it's finals week - but in exchange, it's extra-long. I hope you like it and I hope it makes sense - this is it, people! Thank you SO much to everyone's that reviewed this story and given me motivation to keep writing - you guys mean so much. I'll be sending personal replies to any more reviewers (can I get over 250? -gasp-). I love you all, really. And thank you also to any lurkers and people that have favorited/alerted me or my story! So, here is the finale. Fluff abound.

**MoriaRownlands222, xxTunstall Chickxx, .111, Evil Bunny of Death, purple smurfs r real - **thank you guys so much!

**Starling Rising - **They always fix things, right? And yeah, they'll definitely have those memories for ever, but for now it's just about being home again. I hope this clears everything up: if it doesn't, I'll explain in a PM or something. It makes sense in my crazy mind...

**weeblz-kat - **Heh, I definitely seem to have pulled off the shock factor in that last chapter, even if I didn't like it, lol. But I'm glad you guys did, thank you!

**Jess - **THANK YOU! I'm sorry it's coming to a close too, but all good things must end... Thank you so much for sticking with this from the beginning! Hopefully I'll be able to get some D/N oneshots up this summer, I have a few ideas, this isn't the last from me yet.

**Captain Libeka - **Thank you! Haha, I'm glad you like it so much, it really means a lot when you know people are reading. _Enjoying_ reading. thanks so much!

**Fariy Lights - **Ah, I see, yeah. Numair's definitely stupid in that sense. Yup, new claw... IT'S SO A SYMBOL. I JUST TOOK AN ENGLISH FINAL. I'M SEEING SYMBOLISM IN EVERYTHING. I'm warped. And no, she's not dead! I could never do that to poor Numair... except I did a little. In my other story, Dreams, but that's beside the point right?

**silverflight8 - **Really? Thank you so much, I really didn't like that chapter for some reason, I need to work on writing action scenes I thought. Alanna's always fun to include, and thank you again for all the compliments - stuff like that is really hard. Lol, love always has bad timing, eh? And about the connections, this should clear it up - if it doesn't I can PM you, it is kinda abstract and confusing. The blood thing came to me in the middle of the night and I jumped up to scribble down a note. I actually wrote Life blood, you must be psychic! I hope the conclusion works, full of fluff... -worries-**  
**

**shadowstorm13 - **Thank you!! Haha, glad to be the one you liked... D/N and Immortals are undoubtedly my favorite too. Awesome stories, I remember I read half of TP's books first in like 5th grade, then forgot all about them. I had never read Immortals. This year I read them again, and got so addicted to them all and especially Daine and Numair - of course, this time around I also understood all the sexual undertones. That made everything more interesting to my relationship-oriented mind. Heh.

SO. Here you go at last. Finally fullly edited, completely complete... I can now definitely see why it takes authors years to complete a book. Enjoy! -winks-

**EDITED**

* * *

In such a small, cramped room, it was astounding how everything managed to be so quiet. But barely a whisper found its way through the walls of the infirmary, much less the loud sounds of recovering from battle. Daine's nose twitched and she blinked her eyes open slowly, dazed and disoriented. For a full minute, the only thing she could see was a glaring whiteness, but slowly, her eyes adjusted to the lamps and candles around her. She felt a clean bandage wrapped around her ankle and light gauze on both of her hands, along with various other patches all over her body.

"Numair?" she murmured. He couldn't be far, could he?

She was in the infirmary at Legann, she realized shortly – one of the tiny rooms. A small pillow was behind her head. She was lying on a thin mattress with threadbare sheets, but at least it was something. It was still astonishingly comfortable for her aching body. Something cold burned into her neck, and she lifted her head, feeling two claws on her necklace instead of one. How odd.

"Daine?"

A tired-looking Numair was holding her hand in both of his, sitting tensely in a rickety chair beside the bed. Safe and alive. When Daine lifted her head to meet his eyes, he smiled. He lifted her hand and gently pressed his lips to her fingertips. "Don't you _ever_ scare me like that again, magelet." She could tell he was controlling his voice very carefully.

"How many times have you said that?" Daine replied, trying to smile too. Her mind felt sluggish, and her thoughts mixed and melded into each other until it was very hard to distinguish what she wanted to say. _Kitten, Alanna, the dragon…._ She sighed, looking back at Numair. "I'm just going to keep getting into danger, you know that."

"Only too well."

Daine laughed, his presence making her heart lighten, like it always did. Numair smiled up at her too, reaching out to brush hair away from her face. Daine's skin tingled as his fingertips brushed her cheek softly. But now, with the consciousness, the memories were returning too, and that meant questions.

"What happened?" she asked quietly. Daine shifted her body so she could lay on her side, facing Numair and ignoring the protests from her stinging ankle. "Shouldn't you be resting? You drained yourself, you were hurting - "

"I'm fine," he said quickly, kissing her forehead. "It's been three days, Daine. I've rested."

"Three _days?_"

"Shh. The healers will have my head if they think I am preventing you from adequate recovery." Numair slipped his hand down to cover her mouth, effectively stopping her next irritated and loud response. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Somehow his arms were under her back, supporting her as she tried to sit up a little. Daine slid her arms around his neck and hugged him tight, breathing in deeply. In the back of her mind, she felt animals outside the Legann walls, repairing nests and burrows that had been destroyed by the battles. But they were mostly safe – so there couldn't have been too much damage, could there? Not to her friends, or Legann?

She tilted her head so she could whisper in his ear. "I'll stay quiet if you tell me what's happened. Everything."

A sort of sigh escaped his lips, and Daine realized how tired he still must be, even after three days. She leaned back onto her pillow, reluctantly taking her arms from his neck, and felt Numair's arms pull away as well. But he kept his hand around hers, rubbing his thumb over her fingers.

"Everyone's safe, if a little shaken," he began, and instantly a huge weight lifted off Daine's shoulders_. _"Alanna, Kitten, they're both all right. Kitten's wings will take some healing, and Alanna's furious with herself for fainting, but she will get over it. Jon, Thayet, Tkaa, and Rikash all made it through. Onua's hurt, but she's going to be fine in a few weeks. Injured arm. Caynn and Corus are safe. We don't have to concern ourselves about immortals any longer. At least - not as much."

"As much?"

Numair sighed again, and Daine's heart ached at the anxiety in his eyes. His voice was tired and sad. "When the dragon disappeared, so did a lot of immortals. It's just like we thought – they just had no motivation to fight once they could sense that their leader had left them. But unfortunately, the hole in the barrier is still open. Whichever immortals are unintelligent enough to pass through are going to be as dangerous as ever."

"How did that happen? The dragon, I mean. How – how did I – we – get rid of him?" Daine shook her head, trying to think. "I never had any idea what I was doing, you know. I just saw Alanna fall – and then you were in pain. I just did whatever came to me." Meeting his eyes, she felt ashamed for some reason, like she should've come up with some sort of logical plan.

But his gaze was understanding. "You were brilliant, magelet. You nearly killed yourself - but you were brilliant."

Daine didn't respond, unsure if she should apologize or thank him. Numair kissed her forehead. "The way magic works," he began softly, "is that everything has to be balanced - you know that. And a balance includes a sort of connection. In this case, a connection between the realms."

Daine nodded. She could follow what he said about magic only about half the time, but she was getting better at understanding. Slowly.

"In this case, it wasn't a one-for-one trade sort of balance, like some magics need. There had to be a powerful and physical connection between the realms in order to send the dragon home against its will. When you said balance, I remembered what we needed."

Numair's eyes darkened, making Daine remember too: the pain she had seen. She bit her lip, only to feel the tender spot where she had already drawn blood three days before. Pushing herself into a more upright sitting position, Daine brushed her lips across Numair's rough, unshaven cheek. "Keep going."

"You should be resting."

"I am. Keep going."

The mage sighed. "At first, I was the connection. I was connected to the dragon by my magic, I was a physical part of this world, and I had enough power to serve as a connection on my own. But when you touched the dragon, your wild magic created a stronger bond, and so it was going to take you. You had less power in your magic, but it was a much, much stronger bond, both in terms of the nature of your power and the physicality of you placing your hands on the dragon."

A few terms were starting to escape Daine's knowledge now. "So it was going to take me," Daine clarified, "but then – then I fell, and my blood got on the dragon's claws - "

"You have no idea how lucky you are, Daine," Numair said with a bittersweet smile. "How lucky we are, really. When you see your father, you should thank him."

"My father?" Daine asked, completely lost. Paying attention was almost not worth it.

"Your blood was the connection. You have the blood of a god in you – and so that alone was powerful enough to be the connection. The essence of your wild magic was contained in your blood as well. All together, even those first few drops were powerful enough to send the dragon home. There wasn't any need for more."

"Oh." Daine looked down at her leg under the sheets. A little embarrassing, sure, but she was all right now. No lasting damage; nothing hurt. "And you – and you were okay? Kitten, and Alanna too?"

Nodding, the mage shifted his long body so he was leaning back on the tiny wooden chair, stretching his out legs parallel to her cot. He didn't let go of her gauzed hand. "Yes. The strength of the spell drained Alanna's Gift faster than she could keep up with it. In a way, though, it was lucky, because it removed her from dragon's list of targets."

"Bet she hated that, though."

"She was absolutely livid," said Numair, looking at Daine sidelong with a nod and a grin. "And Kitten – Kitten must have learned something from Tkaa, I don't know what, but somehow she helped push the dragon back wither whistle. Maybe it was an inherent talent. It was her power with minerals, too, that kept one of the dragon's claws here." He reached out and picked up Daine's necklace, inspecting the new claw. Drops of dark blood were scattered over the silver, and they didn't come off when the mage rubbed his thumb roughly over them.

"Where are they? Kitten, Alanna, Onua; where is everyone?"

"Helping with repairs and the injured. There's a lot to do. Onua's sleeping in here." His voice took on a different tone now, clearly irritated. "Jon initially didn't want to let me stay in here. He said I had to do such trivial things such as eating and sleeping."

"That's good to know. I'd be a bit scared if I thought there was no one to look after you if I was gone."

"I can take care of myself."

"Course. Of course," Daine said. They grinned at each other, Daine feeling a light warmth spread through her body. She had missed his smile; the one he reserved just for her. "I want to see everyone," she said suddenly. Not thinking, she turned herself around and threw her legs out to the side, the cold stone floor sending shivers through her feet.

Numair leapt up, hands on her shoulders, shocked. "Daine, what in the Black God's name do you think you're doing? You've been unconscious for three days, and your leg hasn't - "

But nothing hurt. Daine frowned; she was on her feet, and she couldn't be anywhere near fully healed yet. The healers were supposed to conserve their energy. She shifted to put her weight only on her left side. Nothing.

Numair looked astonished. "You're not in pain?"

"No," Daine said, as mystified as ever when it came to unusual occurrences. "Nothing at all."

Wordlessly the mage knelt down, his hands gentle as he rolled up the bottom of her loose breeches – Daine supposed the healers had gotten her fresh clothes – and unwound the bandage around her ankle. Daine watched carefully; there was no blood, and still no pain. Eventually the thick white linen fell away, revealing the pink skin of her ankle and a thin scar, running vertically, about the length of the hand that was brushing over the tender skin. Speechless, Numair unwound the gauze from her burned hands, too – and Daine saw that they were the same as ever, soft and pink, but healed.

"Well," Daine stated simply, stumped but not particularly interested. "That's that, then. I want to see everyone."

She started to head towards the door. But, not entirely unexpectedly, Numair stopped her again, putting his hands firmly on her shoulders. "Daine, even if you can walk and had your injuries miraculously fully healed, you are still exhausted. You've got to rest. Promise me?"

"I've been asleep for three days. How tired could I be?" she said innocently. Lifting her head to meet his gaze, Daine studied his familiar face - warm, dark brown eyes; raven hair tied back, a few strands falling over his face; a long nose; and two pale scars crisscrossing over his cheek. With a hidden grin, Daine ducked under Numair's arms, darting to the side and making a dash for the simple plank door.

"_Daine!_"

The young wildmage let out a laugh. But just as she was reaching out for the metal door-handle, strong arms caught her from behind, spinning her into the air and away from the only way out. _So close!_

"Numair," Daine complained, but she was smiling despite herself. She put her hands on Numair's shoulders to hold herself steady in the air. "I'm fine, see? You've roughed me up like this and I'm still okay. I just need to be in the _air_, somewhere I can actually _breathe_. And Kitten's probably going mad and annoying the cook so much that she'll get banned from the kitchen forever and have to sit on the ramparts alone with Tkaa. _Starving_."

Numair just laughed, shaking his head, and his breath brushed over Daine's neck and collar, making her shiver pleasantly. His arms slid down to her waist and held her closer so that her toes were barely brushing the ground. Daine rested her head against his strong chest, feeling his heartbeat; he left a soft kiss on the top of her head.

All together, she didn't think she had ever felt warmer in her entire life.

"Sorry to interrupt, Daine, Numair, but I think someone wants to see you - "

Daine's eyes flew open and she turned her head so quickly that her neck cramped. Rubbing it, she winced at the sight of Queen Thayet, staring at them with an expression of barely suppressed laughter. Behind her, Numair's body froze and she guessed he, too, was staring at the queen. Knowing him, in distress. But before either he or Daine could speak, a small explosion attacked Daine's legs, whistling and trilling like an angry squirrel. Except about a hundred times louder.

"Kitten," Daine said exasperatedly. She slipped out of Numair's arms and knelt to hold the dragonet, grateful for the distraction. Her cheeks were flushing under the queen's knowing eyes. Not that she _minded_ if Thayet knew, really, but she couldn't help wondering – there was so much at stake, on either side. Shaking her head quickly, Daine turned back to the demanding dragonet, dropping a kiss on her scaly nose. "You silly little dragon, did you think we would leave you? We've been away from you too much lately." Daine paused, making sure Kitten was looking her in the eyes. "You all right, Kit?"

The dragonet's wings were bandaged, but Daine knew that wasn't the biggest problem. Daine could see the sadness in the dragonet's eyes. But Kit's scales turned a cool blue, and she purred, rubbing her nose against Daine's palm and Numair's legs. The mage bent and patted her on the head, throwing an awkward glance back up at Thayet, who grinned mischievously.

"Come on, Daine," the queen said, titling her head back, her eyes glittering with amusement. "Everyone would love to see you. I'm assuming you're feeling up to it, He wouldn't let you out of bed if you weren't, after all."

"I tried," began Numair, but Daine cut him off.

"I'm fine," she said, picking up Kitten and starting towards the door. "I don't know how, but I'm fine." Her leg didn't even twinge. She felt tired, but not exhausted. As she left, Numair following a little ways behind her, the queen caught up with her and bent to speak in Daine's ear.

"You are a very, _very_ lucky woman, you know that?"

Daine flushed. But she knew what Thayet meant, and the queen kissed her cheek as they left the infirmary, then spoke loudly so Numair could hear. "Don't get too caught up with each other that you forget to help with the repairs."

"Of course not," muttered Numair, throwing Daine a grin.

As they passed through the courtyard Daine took in everything that had changed at Legann. Dust and rubble was everywhere, and one wall was crumbling and broken, the large rocks cracked straight down the middle. Blood littered the floor and stones, and an unpleasant feeling crept up her spine; she could tell that the corpses of the immortals will still outside the castle. Probably a few stray, living Stormwings were there, too, taking advantage of the unguarded human bodies. Without a doubt, that they had a massive amount of work ahead of them. But through the pain and death there were cautious smiles full of relief, and Daine heard a whistle and turned around, seeing George waving with one arm around Alanna's shoulders, who looked tired but healthy. The Lioness gave her a grin.

Daine's heart filled and she waved back, jabbing Numair in the side to make sure he caught sight of them. Near the west wall she saw the King, talking to a common soldier, and Tkaa and Rikash were conversing on top of the tower. She even saw Zek, wrapped around the basilisk's shoulders. Everyone who wasn't injured was helping; it didn't matter who they were.

"Come on," she said suddenly to Numair. Daine grabbed his hand, turning to face him. "I have somewhere I want to go."

"Where? We can't leave the castle - "

"I know."

Ignoring his protests, she pulled him over to the west wall, and up a familiar, dark staircase until they were on top of the same small tower they had been on what felt like ages before. Below them, the ocean stretched out, pale, sun-lit, and glittering, dotted with ships and debris. Daine recognized the ship Alanna had used to reach their sandbar, probably the same one that took them home. Seagulls and dolphins called out to her across the wind, and Daine smiled and replied, sending out her voice to every animal she could reach. She was connected to _everything_. The wind on her face, the smell of the sea – she was back where she belonged. With Numair and the People and freedom.

Another scent suddenly reached her, one that reminded her of Snowsdale, for some odd reason. But only the good parts of Snowsdale – memories of home, of her mother. It was an herb her mother once used to heal deep wounds and infections. Looking down at her leg and hands, Daine smiled. Her parents did care for her, after all. Godly influence was everywhere in her life – her blood, the claws on her necklace, even her magic. She felt a warmth around her, like a parent's loving embrace.

"Are you looking forward to going back to Corus?" Numair asked. "When all the work here is done?"

Turning to look at him, Daine laughed, feeling happier and more whole than she had in ages. "Of course! I'll get to see Cloud and Tahoi, and train with the Riders again, right? And spend time with the People. I've missed them all so much. And even Kalasin and the kids."

Numair laughed too, stepping up beside her, placing his elbows on the worn stone wall, and staring out across the sea with his chin in his hands. Daine leaned against his arm, closing her eyes and feeling the sun on her skin. The ocean waves were relentless and calming. "Numair," she murmured softly, her heart beating a little faster than normal. "Will you – will you still teach me when we go home?"

She blushed. Numair glanced sideways at her. "Teach you?"

Daine shrugged. "Still give me lessons, and all. I know there might not be much more about wild magic. But I still don't know all the myths and stories of Tortall, or any of those things people here learn in early school." Looking up, the wildmage let herself smile a little. "I still want to spend time with you."

The sound of post-war repairs and the ocean waves pounding against stone drifted over them, but in their world it was quiet. Daine studied Numair's face, from the dark warmth in his eyes to the criss-crossing scars on his cheek, an everlasting gift from Ozorne. Numair titled her chin up, meeting her eyes, and softly – deliberately – he kissed her, his lips lingering sweetly.

It was the time to be impulsive. Daine grabbed his shirt, pulling him to her, fully aware of the pressured feeling in her chest. _Love,_ she reminded herself, smiling widely, as Numair's arms settled around her slender shoulders. He pulled away first, his eyes dancing with surprise as their breath mingled, faces inches apart. In the back of her mind, Daine was aware that they were in full view of the entire castle; anyone who happened to look up. It didn't even matter.

"Teach me?" she murmured. Questioning.

There was a pause. Numair's arms slid to her elbows, and she breathed in sharply, still gazing into his eyes.

"If we don't get distracted."

Daine grinned against his lips as Numair kissed her again, strong and certain.


End file.
